Afterlife
by tigerfeet
Summary: Formerly "At the end of Everything" - When searching for Merle in Atlanta, Rick and company come across a wounded survivor on her own who gets under Daryl's skin in every sense of the word, good and bad.  I suck at summaries  DARYLXOC
1. Prologue

**(A/N: Wow, it's been a long, long loooooong time and that makes me sad lol. Unfortunately my life has been so busy I've barely had time to breathe let alone do anything fun like write, and my work schedule is about to get about three times as hectic as of Monday and that makes me really bummed too. **

**Having said that, I can't NOT spark this back up again. Season two has inspired me so much (especially last week's horrendously wonderful episode) so even if it kills me I will get this reworked and progressed. **

**To help me get back into the swing of things I am tweaking it a bit, basic plot stays the same but it's all had a once over and there's minor parts that will be different and different wording and but if you followed it when it was "At the End of Everything" it shouldn't seem all that different…and hopefully you all like I just as well. **

**I'm keeping the old version up for a little while, a week or so, so that people can be redirected but after that it will vanish for good so make sure you get alerted for this one as well. I'm not sure when I'll be posting a brand spanking new chapter but I'm hoping to have everything that's already in existence edited by a weeks time and then go from there!**

**I do not own any Walking Dead characters or events….just like I unfortunately do not own Norman Reedus…I could speak at length how bitter I am about this but that's beside the point.**

**If you don't like OC's then you probably should not read as it will continue to be a Daryl / OC fic because I like to live vicariously through my fictional characters.**

**I adore reviews, they inspire me to write and update quickly. I'm also open to constructive criticism so whatever you've got lay it on me)**

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><p><em><strong>Prologue:<strong>_

Everyone likes to think about the end of the world every now and then. Whether it's due to morbid curiosity or whether it's an attempt to be prepared and plan for catastrophe emergency is inconsequential when it comes down to it. Thinking about something and putting it into action are two very different things, and meager stockpiles or half cocked emergency survival plans tend to go right out the window when speculation shifts quickly from plain theory into jarring reality. Even with the greatest imagination in the world, no one could ever deduce what it would be like to have everything they had ever known and every little comfort available ripped away in a split second. No one can predict what survival after the fall of civilization would really be like. More over prediction is mute when the sheer magnitude of infectious outbreak that hits is far beyond anyone's day-to-day rumination. After all, outbreak was one thing, but something that sets the dead back up on their feet, hungry and running rampant in the street was another thing altogether.

Call it shock, a lack of understanding of the gravity of the entire situation, or maybe even willful denial, but at first at face value the walkers and the entire state of things as they were seemed little more than a bad dream. Power was cut and ready communication was at once a thing of the past. People outside of the city, some of which who had yet to have a face to face meeting with a walker, struggled to get to the refugee center and some semblance of purported safety. People stuck in major cities scrambled to get beyond its limits and escape not only the walkers but the mass cull that had apparently been enacted to bring an end to the outbreak alike. Stranded and confused, fearful flocks of people were coming apart at the proverbial seams en masse.

Panic, once set in, was the enemy just as much as the walkers were. The walkers brought with them fear, and the swift loss of any and all hope of long-term survival. But hysteria had the habit of changing people in remarkable ways. For the better or for the worse was up in the air, a crapshoot really, and while both were more than possible, in a post apocalyptic landscape for the worse was more likely than not. Moreover, in Ana Leigh's experience, "for the worse" was rapidly becoming the norm.

Four weeks, it had been since she had been on her own and four weeks that had already began to feel like a lifetime. To be fair though, it had already seemed like a lifetime since the outbreak happened. Things had gone from bad to worse in the dark, so to speak, and maybe it had only felt like a lifetime on account not knowing just exactly what was happening. Even then, that wasn't so much the worst of it as much as the lack of support was. People could live with being oblivious much sooner than they could live without the feeling of any reason to believe things would get better; but there was nothing. No survival rations delivered, and no officials to instruct them where to go or how they could best keep safe. Everyone was left on their own to scratch together some foolhardy plan if they could manage. Something, anything to get them through the days that spanned before the whole ordeal was resolved and that was if it even would be.

The little stretch of countryside Analeigh had only ever known as a safe warm, area to call home had become little more than a ghost town surprisingly fast. Some neighbors, she was certain, joined up in droves and made hasty evacuations while others barricaded holed up in their homes as best as they could. Too scared to run, or to take a chance and get the hell out of dodge, it didn't seem like it mattered anymore. Survivors were stronger together and there was safety in numbers for certain, but how much promise could that hold when they were outnumbered by the dead already anyways?

Most days Analeigh could hardly tell if she, or anybody else for that matter, was fighting for life or just putting on a brave face while waiting to die.

Staying out of city stood to reason as a better way to keep alive, that much was in her favor at first. The suburbs and the country land weren't nearly as swarmed by the dead as major urban areas were by the day. Instead of hundreds to fight off or avoid, on a regular basis there were but a dozen at the most on a bad day. Even on a bad day the countryside could almost be considered safe from dawn to dusk and as things were, _almost__safe_ had come to be the only thing anyone could really hope for.

That being said, lingering in small towns and country glens was something not without downfall. Personal stock had the habit of dwindling more quickly than planned out and expected and in small towns, what merchants were available in proximity got ransacked and run through in record speed. Being out of food and water wasn't immediately a problem solved by breaking into a neighbor's home and pilfering whatever was needed. Running out of supplies, if they were absolutely necessary, meant risking a trip to the city to scavenge whatever one might find as fast as humanly possible. The more trips successfully made by greater amounts of people meant more trips made farther, and farther in search of resources to be had.

It was running out of supplies, and a forced trip for more that had left Analeigh on her own and In irony, it was only fitting she stay in the now abandoned city that had left her in a similar way.

Thinking of herself was much easier for her than thinking about what had really happened. Thinking of herself as abandoned made it easier for her to put of a wall and pretend like she was really as brave and as strong as she needed to be. That aside, most days all she really wanted to do was collapse in a corner somewhere with knees hugged to her chest, catatonic and just waiting for the walkers to tear her to shreds. Most days it was easier to think about giving up the fight while she had all her senses about her and wasn't parched and half dead of starvation. She was alone in Atlanta, a hotbed of walkers and harsh and dead in it's own right. Bodies littered the streets, and just about everything was smashed, burned or ransacked to no end, a cold empty city that would quite literally eat her alive. There was little chance of her making it out in one piece and even if she did there was nothing now left for her to live for.

She would have all but convinced herself to give up while she still had the choice if not for the faintest prospect of someone, somewhere bringing everything that had unfolded to an end. It was a pipe dream, and a foolish one at that but maybe, just maybe, if Analeigh could will herself to pull through a little longer she would see things to the end. Maybe everything would be as it once was, and maybe salvation was closer at hand than anyone knew. Maybe resolution wasn't impossible after all. All it would take to make everything a bad memory was someone willing to try, and maybe there was someone doing just that.

Maybes are a long shot of course, but they were all Analeigh had.

Even then, all of her maybes were almost all gone.


	2. Chapter One: Vatos Pt One

_**Chapter Two: Vatos Pt. One**_

"Merle?"

The sound of a strange voice ripping through the still silence of the building shot Analeigh's heart into her throat. A cold flood of panic washed over her as she gave her surroundings a once over, surveying for something she could duck behind and tuck herself out of sight as quickly as possible. An impromptu encounter and attracting the attention of any and all strangers was not at all the manner in which she had hoped to go about her day.

"Merle?"

"We're not alone here, remember." A secondary voice cut through the air, more hushed and tense than the first.

"Screw that, he could be bleedin' out, you said so yourself."

"Shit…" Analeigh muttered under her breath, eyes wide and fingers fumbling for a well-worn baseball bat leaned up against the butt end of a counter. "Shit, shit…"

She scolded herself inwardly, a stupid risk taken and now she very likely about to pay the price.

It was late in the day, mere minutes away from sunset, but Analeigh had only just woken up. Wearied and thirsty, she had ventured out to the cafeteria a few floors above her new found home to see if she could tap what was left out of one of the remaining water coolers. Her finest idea it was not, that much was blazingly clear, though surprise visitors were the last thing she would have ever expected.

Walkers, as always, were the expected, and walkers remained the main thing to be concerned with. But that aside, at least she had the wherewithal to deal with them if need be. Even though dusk in the city was a lethal time to be wandering the streets, Analeigh had yet to see many who had enough lingering intelligence to work their way inside. A few here and there, she could easily dispatch or outrun if the need arose. Walkers were easy that way, walkers were predictable and had but one mode and one driving factor. People, on the other hand, were unpredictable and unpredictability was what was more likely to get her into trouble.

Heavy footsteps tracked through the room forcing her to gather her wits and flatten herself against a wall as best as she could. The cafeteria was lacking in the way of cover and even slight as she was, what abutments there were available guaranteed little in their ability to conceal her. A hallway, or a storage room would have been like heaven to her at that point. Some secret hide a way to wait it all out, or a secondary way back down to the stairs by which she could flee. Luck against her as always, the only option of exit would draw her right out in plain sight and it went without saying that fact alone was about as desirable as a kick to the face.

Analeigh near choked as a small group of men cautiously stalked into the cafeteria. One in the lead, carrying a rather impressive looking crossbow, followed by a man clad in a deputy's uniform close in toe, with an Asian and a fairly imposing looking black man rounding out the pack. On a better day the apparent deputy would have set her nerves at ease a little, but she was badly out numbered and given people's behavior of late, no suggestion of one's high moral character and the ability to be trusted was guaranteed.

Fixing her eyes on what little she could see over her shoulder, she stifled a groan and flexed her fingers against the grip of her bat. Analeigh had every intention on letting her "company" do whatever it was they had come to accomplish and get the hell out. She was over confrontations and certainly hoped to have not stumbled into another one, but if it was a fight they were looking for then a fight they were in for and no mistake at that. Even if she were hardly a force to be reckoned with in the presence of four men, she would go down swinging and hope for the best.

Risking just a few more inches exposed, she peeked around the corner of the wall to get a better look as the men moved through the room. Congregating at the center of the stove, the group paused, attention focused around several still lit propane torches. A thick leather belt and a bloody rag were strewn across the floor accompanied by blood splatter over just about everything. Someone else had been inside; another blow to her now apparently misplaced sense of security.

"What's that burned stuff?" The Asian nodded his head in the direction of a flat metal spatula the man in the uniformed man had in his grip.

"Skin." The deputy replied, vague disgust written across his features. "He cauterized the stump."

Analeigh clapped a hand over her mouth and silenced an involuntary gag, suddenly quite thankful she had yet to reach the point at which cauterizing anything was a necessity.

Grip tight on her bat, she slinked along the wall again, using the mens' growing distraction in their own conversation to her advantage. The more they became engrossed in what they were doing, the more likely it was they wouldn't notice her. That is, she hoped they were engaged enough to not take notice of her even if she was right out in the open. She needed to get to the same stairwell they had come through. The only other means of exit on her side of the room was a fire exit that was locked up quite tight and to which she obviously didn't have the key.

Weight up on her toes, she took one tentative step out from hiding, then another, and another following. Half holding her breath, Analeigh navigated swiftly through a row of steel serving carts and quickly ducked down behind the abutment of a prep counter. She peered around the new corner she could see little other than the back of their heads, though by the sound of it she didn't need to

"You couldn't kill him." The man with the crossbow spat, egging their conversation on its way to full fledged argument. "I ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastard."

"What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? Different story?" The deputy retorted.

"Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want, I'm gonna go get him."

"Daryl, wait!"

"Get your hands off me! You can't stop me!"

Analeigh's bat slipped slightly, scraping against the floor once, and then again as she regained her grip. The Asian's attention whipped to the back of the kitchen and she ducked behind cover just as she saw him turn in her direction.

"Shh! Guys!" He interjected trying to quiet his companions and alert them to the possibility that, as stated, they really weren't alone.

His eyes pinned to the back of the room rooted Analeigh to her spot and she didn't dare so much as draw a breath.

"I think there's something…"

"Just a minute." The deputy held up a hand, not even fully having listened to the Asian before dismissing him and continuing on with diffusing the situation. "I don't blame you. He's family I get that. I went through hell to find mine; he can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around but only if we keep a level head."

"I could do that." The one they called Daryl agreed reluctantly.

"Only if we get those guns first." The black man, finally joining the conversation. "I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions okay?"

A dull metal thunk echoed through the room and snapped the mens' attention away from their own matters. Picking entirely the wrong time to make even he slightest move, Analeigh had shifted on the floor just as the room fell silent again. She'd moved her back away just a touch from the metal counter and in doing so drew the tin to crinkle outwards and loudly at that. Self cauterized stumps and budding arguments fell by the wayside. The matter at hand most important to the men now was finding out just who, or what exactly had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"There!" The Asian half whispered excitedly. "See, there it is again! I knew I heard something!"

"Sneaky little bastard." Daryl muttered, shifted his grip and held his crossbow at the ready. "Since when do walkers play hide and seek anyway?"

Analeigh swallowed back the growing lump in her throat and rested her head against the counter. With cold sweat on the brink of breaking out and eyes closed, she did her best to gather her courage. The only thing to be heard other than her own breath ringing in her ears was the ominous echo of heavy footsteps against the linoleum.

_Thump….thump…_

Almost like a death toll to her.

_Thump…thump…_

Closer, and closer.

_Thump…thump…_

The tension was about enough to knock her over where she sat. There was no choice other than to make a break for it and in a flash she did just that. Launching herself in a dead sprint towards the stairwell Analeigh inadvertently slammed against one of the serving carts roughly. Spilling a good array of metal utensils and platters to the ground she at least managed to catch the men off guard. Another survivor in the middle of Atlanta after is the last thing anyone would have expected after the last walker swarm attack. Unlikely and unexpected, and yet there she was, gone in a blur of limbs and a flick of a gauzy cotton dress.

"Wait!" Daryl barked out after her. Breaking free of momentary shock he bolted after her with the others pulling up the rear.

Bare feet slapping painfully against concrete, Analeigh hurtled down the stairs. Running on little more than a good shot of adrenaline, she took two and three steps at a time to keep up the pace. She had a pretty decent head start on the group, and that was all she could have asked for and all she had in way of advantage. A head start gave her at least a fighting chance at getting back to the floor of the building she called home. There were six flights to go, and she could make it if she really tried. All she had to do was get down there and she would be fine. Six flights below they couldn't get her behind heavy oak doors chained shut, and six flights below she would be safe there, in theory.

"Don't you hear?" Daryl's voice echoed from a few floors above. "I said get your ass back here!"

He was gaining on her and doing so almost as quickly as she was covering ground of her own. Panicked and not fully paying attention to her footing, with two flights to go, clammy feet gave out and slipped a heel out from under her. Sliding the rest of the way down on her side, each step thumping painfully against Analeigh's hip and grated against her ribs. Adrenaline or not, the kind of pain that hit her as she smacked against the base of the wall was enough to keep her down for the count and then some. Gritting her teeth, she gripped a handrail and willed herself back right as shouts from above and thunderous footsteps were near on top of her.

They were three floors above her…

She yelped as she stumbled forward a step or two and in a scramble plucked her bat off the ground. Forcing herself through her pain, Analeigh bit her lip and made towards the next flight only to have her entire leg give way and land her in another crumpled heap.

Two floors above…

She wasn't going to make it.

There was nothing left to do but stay and fight. There were no safe locks and no safe doors anywhere to be had. Just her own hardheadedness and at least one blow she could get in with her bat before they had the chance to strike.

One floor above…

Analeigh plastered herself against the thin concrete support beam of the staircase. Her grip tightened on her bat and she swung out as hard as she could just as Daryl hit the bottom of the stairs. Bat meeting crossbow made for an interesting clatter and not quite the impact she had hoped for to say the least. A little more luck and it would have been bat meets skull and she would have taken him down, or at very least knocked him a little dizzy enough to buy what time she needed. Instead they were locked together, each disabling the other from anything further and each staring the other down intently and incredulously. Whatever outcome there was to be had it was going to be interesting to say the least.

A standoff was not the way Analeigh had expected to start her day, but a standoff was what she had.


	3. Chapter Two: Vatos Pt Two

_**(A/N: Thank you so much guys, for your renewed interest. I really appreciate all the alerts and reviews…my work week starts tomorrow morning at QUARTER TO SIX IN THE MORNING so I can't promise when the next revamped chapter will be up but I'm aiming for Thursday, it's clear at the moment getting to the new stuff is going to take a bit longer so hopefully you'll bear with me. Right now, I need to put myself to bed toot sweet :P Hope you all enjoy the re-write!**_

_**P.S. If you find anything grammatically wrong or duplicated sentences please let me know, I've read this over twice and I'm so tired I can't really spot if I'm missing anything….i'm in the market for a beta reader too hint hint, nudge nudge*) **_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Two: Vatos: Pt. Two<strong>_

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl seethed, once again muscling through a lapse of stunned silence. "What the hell?"

He shoved his bow towards his attacker and shook her off, sending her stumbling back towards the corner of the stairwell.

"What the hell's your problem?"

"Get away from me." Analeigh spat through clenched teeth, mustering every scrap of nerve she had left to keep her voice from cracking.

"How about you tell me where my brother is first?" Daryl retorted.

"I'm warning you…"

Bat scraping against the ground, she steadied herself and turned just enough to shoot him a glare through a thick swath of disheveled bangs.

As far as fault went, there wasn't any to be had in such an aggressive knee jerk reaction. Everyone had reason for their nerves to stand on end, and by the look of her there was no denying Analeigh had been through the ringer just as badly as anyone else. She was worn and drawn looking, clad in a stained cotton sundress, that had clearly seen better days, bearing an array of small rips and tatters. Tiny, and almost frail looking auburn hair fell in soft messy waves against delicately pale skin, framing mossy green eyes rimmed with dark circles and a heavy bruise just across her cheekbone. Even with her best "game face" painted on and trying like hell to hold her ground and seem everything she was not, it was more than just a little evident Analeigh was but a fraction of a second from breaking. She'd been made to endure the same hell as everyone else had, and now on top of everything, being cornered in a stairwell wasn't exactly conducive to a calm and rational situation.

Even if things had been calm and collected, throwing Daryl in the mix tended to have a habit of blowing things to all hell anyways. On the best of days and under the best of circumstances he hardly reacted to things in a fitting manner. Emotions now running high, and Merle's life quite possibly on the line tossed all common sense and tact to the wayside was no doubt going to make dealing with Analeigh interesting to say the least.

"Where's my brother?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Found you in the same canteen he busted out of." He moved towards her, not giving so much as an inch in pursuit of his own end. "You wanna call that coincidence?"

"You can call it what you like, I didn't see _nothin__'_…I don't know _nothin__'_. It's a big building…in case you hadn't noticed."

Daryl sidestepped swiftly as she rocked on her heel and made to dart around him and down the remaining steps. Snatching her tightly around the wrist he held fast to her and snuffed out any other projected move for escape.

"Uh-uh." He sneered, quite literally breathing down her neck as he backed into the wall a little further. "You ain't gettin' off so easy, Darin'."

"I ain't your Darlin'." Analeigh grit her teeth and bit back a fresh flood of panic.

"Got that right." Daryl gruffed. "Now, I won't ask you again…where's Merle?"

"What reason have I got to tell you anything?"

"Which one you want?" A sly smirk tugged at his lips. "I got lots."

Always the one to like to feel as though she had a fair amount of grit in most situations, Analeigh's brave face was fading fast and soon there would be no concealing she was doing little more than shaking in her proverbial boots. There would be no more concealing the nervous tremor that coursed through her muscles, no concealing the breath that came in digging gasps, or the apprehension clouding her eyes. To show fear was to show weakness and more than likely, admit defeat. Hard as she may try, she was fighting a losing battle and quite visibly crumbling by the second.

"Let go of me." She half squeaked and tugged against his grip.

It was next to folly to try and swing a baseball bat one handedly to any effect. But in a last attempt at standing her ground, or a threat to do just that anyways, Analeigh tightened her fingers about the base and raised the bat off of the ground.

"You wanna take another swing at me you best go on and do it."

Eyes locked with Daryl's, Analeigh grit her teeth and willed herself to do just that only to be met with little result. He took another step towards her and she pulled back instead of attacking. Another step, and her shoulder blades grazed against the cool concrete of the wall behind her. Cornered in the corridor, there was nothing now that Analeigh could do, no recourse whatsoever she could think of let alone muster herself to enact. Little mistakes had brought her to this and little mistakes were the ones he seemed to make time and time again. "I didn't think so." Daryl smirked, so close to her now the term 'breathing down your neck' took on the most literal meaning possible.

"That's what I thought." Daryl grabbed the bat out of her hands and tossed it to the side with a clatter, drawing a sharp whimper and a reactive flinch from Analeigh just as Rick appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Daryl, get the hell off of her!" Rick barked, forcing his way between the pair, shoving Daryl half against the wall himself. "That is not the way we handle this."

"Yeah? Says who?"

"Says me." Rick ducked and forcibly caught Daryl's line of vision. "You muscle her around like you do 'bout everyone else and there will be a problem, you got that?"

"What, you think you're gonna get anywhere with a good ol' heart to heart?"

"Man, why don't you ease up a little?" Glenn added breathlessly, joining he fray. "Can't you see you're scaring her half to death?"

"Don't think this concerns any of ya'll." Daryl grumbled.

"Maybe not." Rick replied exasperatedly. "But I'm not about to let you browbeat her into telling you what you wanna hear."

Analeigh eyed the men, not fully understanding why she didn't use the moment of distraction to make a get away. Maybe she was too tired or even just a little too rattled to go for it. Maybe she had decided from there on out she just didn't care or maybe, if nothing else, Analeigh wanted to figure out just what the hell was going on.

"I already told him I don't know nothin'."

"Why'd you run then?" Daryl peered around Rick. "You got something you ain't telling me? You got something to hide maybe?"

"You ain't ever been scared enough to run away from somethin'?" Analeigh shot back.

"There's a difference between bein' scared and bein' a coward." He replied. "I don't run from nothin'."

"Just like there's a difference between bein' brave and bein' stupid. That too hard for you to understand?"

"Just you keep talkin' sweetheart."

"You wanna try and shut me up?" She shot back, finding a little more courage at the hand of third party interference.

Rick stepped in again, making another attempt at disarming the escalating back and forth. He knew there would be nothing remotely close to good end if the progression continued and spending all day arguing in a stairwell was not their purpose for such a risky mission away from camp.

Analeigh flinched slightly, protectively curing in on herself as he extended a hand towards her. Uniform or not there wasn't anyone she was going to just up and trust at the drop of a hat and distance was not in her favor.

"You don't know nothin', and that's fine." Rick assured her quietly, trying to calm her nerves and convince her he meant her no harm. "Why don't we start with what you do know?"

"What I do know?" Analeigh parroted. "Like how all I was doin' was trying to sniff out something to drink and wound up being chased down half a dozen flights of stairs and badgered by ya'll instead? That what you mean by 'What I do know'?'"

"I guess that could work." He shrugged, and flashed her a half smile. "But I was really thinking more along the lines of your name…maybe how you come to find yourself here."

"How I come to find myself here." She scoffed and rolled her eyes at how simple the statement made things sound.

"You don't know anything else, then I will be good with that." Rick encouraged. "The sooner I figure out what's goin' on here, the sooner we will be on our way if that's what you want.

Eying him wearily, Analeigh remained tight lipped and silent as the grave as she weighed the pros and cons of telling anyone one scrap of anything about her.

"I promise…just your name if that's all you want to part with."

"We getting' somewhere with this or can we about get to lookin' for Merle?" Daryl griped. "Goddamn waste of time is all this is."

Gnawing her lower lip thoughtfully, she flipped her eyes between the pair of men. To his credit at least, Rick seemed like less of a pain in the ass than Daryl apparently was. And while it wasn't ideal to say much at all the faster she could get them out of her hair the happier, it seemed, everyone would be.

"Analeigh…" She winced slightly as she gripped the handrail and shifted her stance against the wall. "My name, that is."

"Just Analeigh?" Rick arched a brow.

"To you." She nodded. "For now."

It was funny the way such an insignificant scrap of information seemed to fixate everyone's direct attention. If Analeigh didn't know any better she'd have thought they were all fixed to the spot waiting on her complete life story to come barreling forth in fantastic detail to regale them. A sign of the times really, the need to humanize anything or anyone that didn't want to tear a person's face out and gnaw on their insides while they were still alive was probably more to be expected than not. A life story, however, was not exactly something she was willing to just up and dish out. Maybe in another life, but those days had long since passed, or at least so it felt.

"And you just happen to be here, in the right place at the right time?" Daryl spurred her on spitefully

"That what you call it? Right place, right time?" Analeigh scoffed. "This is an ideal place to you to hole up for days, and days only to run into something like this."

"You're living here?" T-Dog finally spoke up.

She nodded. "If you wanna call it that."

"Alone?"

Another nod.

She shifted uncomfortably and dug her fingernails forcibly into the palm of her hand to still a yelp. With the situation calming, even just slightly, the adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off and the effects of her tumble down the stairs, if not everything else she had suffered through, were kicking in with a vengeance.

"Just there on the floor below." Carrying on with a heavy sigh, she clutched at her ribs and stifled another whimper. "It's the only place I could find where the doors would shut enough to chain. Aside from food and water, I stay in a lot. So like I said, I ain't seen your friend's brother, or anyone else for that matter. You can take it for truth or not, I don't much care."

"Satisfied?" Rick sighed and shot Daryl a pointed glance.

He nodded, crestfallen and all the more frustrated. It was only ever a fifty-fifty chance Analeigh would have something useful to tell them, but it would have been everything in the world if the outcome was reversed and she had. The blood trail, now that Merle's stump had been somewhat tended to, had run it's course and Atlanta was a big city in which too be looking for one man. Knowing Merle would be doing no different than they were, ducking around corners and keeping out of plain sight as much as possible, made the prospect of searching all the more daunting at that. Daryl would come back every day to carry out the search if that's what it took, he could track just about anything right up there with the best of them after all. But the longer Merle was missing the less likely it was going to be to hunt him down, and that was if there was a clear trail to follow at all. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but once again perhaps when Daryl needed his brother the most, he had all but dropped off the face of the earth and this time it didn't look like he'd be coming back to make amends.

Daryl was the first to notice something wasn't quite right with Analeigh, not by half. She'd put on a decent show, pretending like everything was fine and she was only just a little rattled. But like a red flag blowing in the wind, her growing discomfort fixed his attention to whatever it was she sought to cover up. Giving her a subtle once over his eyes lingered on her lower half a moment before flicking back to hers, seriousness of a different note drawn across his face.

"You're bleedin'." He gave a little nod towards her leg, drawing focus of the rest of the group towards it.

Blanching slightly, Analeigh stifled a gasp and strained to tug at the hem of her dress. "It's nothing."

"Is that so?"

"Jesus…" Glenn half whispered. "Look at that."

Two thick dark streams of blood trickled down from the outside of her thigh, winding down past her knee before crossing paths and pooling in a sizable rivulet just above her ankle. Deep blue and purple bruises splotched across the majority of her lower leg, her ankle was clearly inflamed and bearing a deep gash that had mostly healed over but looked irritated and sore none the less. How any of them had missed the fact that she was blatantly pretty injured was anyone's guess, but as much as Analeigh would have played it off to get the group on their way as quickly as possible, that sort of bleeding and the looks of her leg wasn't something that could so easily be ignored. At the very least it went directly against Rick's conscience to just leave her there, shaky and possibly bleeding just as badly as Merle had been (or maybe still was) just by her word alone.

"Doesn't look like nothin' to me." Rick grimaced, flicking his eyes back up to meet hers. "Are you sure you're gonna be alright?"

Analeigh pulled back from the others again, jarring loose a fresh wave of pain to be bitten back. "Not that it's any concern of ya'll…"

"You get bit?" Daryl interrupted.

A hint of sadness flicked across her features as she turned her gaze towards him. "You'd best believe me when I tell you I wish I had been."


	4. Chapter Three: Vatos Pt Three

_**(A/N: Well, one more for this week…you might get another over the weekend at some point but I wouldn't hold your breath. Today was my last workday for the week that was actually reasonably paced. Now until Monday however…not so much but, I will try…cause I'm enjoying this so much haha. **_

_**Thank you all again for all the favorites and the reviews. Those of you who have reviewed this in the old version and are doing so again here…thank you all the more…I'll get to the new stuff at some point next week I promise…hopefully. **_

_**I had planned to write little individual notes, but once again I am very tired…next go around, I promise!**_

_**Enjoy!)**_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Three: Vatos: Pt. Three<strong>_

"Mind if I have a look?" Rick asked pointedly, his eyes fixed now too on the wreckage that was Analeigh's leg.

"As a matter of fact, I do." She bristled and brushed him off abruptly. "I told it's nothin' you need to worry yourself about. It's a little cut…I'll live, I promise you."

"And a sprained ankle."

"I can manage."

"Might even be broken." Rick continued.

"I doubt I'd be walkin' on a busted ankle."

"Who's to say you still will be a day from now? Or even an hour."

"Just…leave me alone."

"I wish I could." Rick flashed her a sympathetic smile. "But I just don't feel quite right about leavin' you here on your own not knowing if you're okay."

"Ain't any of my concern how you feel…that's on you." Analeigh huffed, lower jaw jutting out in frustration as she turned and negotiated her way towards the next set of stairs at half speed.

Much the same as she was in no mood for impromptu company and attention she was in no mood for games wrapped in the guise of idle conversation. The longer they held her in their presence, the longer they could pepper her with questions and pry a little more out of her. Some things she had to bear were far better buried in the back of her mind, and the longer she stayed to converse, the more likely it was she wouldn't be able to keep the thoughts and the memories from flooding back.

"I can manage on my own." Her voice caught slightly as she hobbled down the first couple steps.

"How about if it gets infected? You'll be able to manage on your own then?" He chided. "And what if it already is?"

"Why do you care so much?" She snapped, strident glare effectively getting Rick to concede and back off just a little. "I ain't your problem."

"Man, she if she doesn't want our help, then she doesn't want our help…let's just…let her go." Glenn pointedly lowered his voice.

"You'd sleep alright just leavin' her here as is?"

"Look, I'm not trying to be insensitive alright?" He toyed with his baseball cap and pawed at the back of his head sheepishly. "But we have bigger fish to fry and we can't be gone from camp this long, not again. We got lucky once but it's not safe for anyone, you know that it isn't."

"We have medical supplies and it won't take but a minute."

"We brought that first aid kit for Merle." Daryl growled. "We use it on her, what if there ain't nothin' left when we find him? How'd you sleep then?"

"We have enough."

"Thought you said Merle was as good as death proof anyways." T-Dog quipped. "What's it matter if we spare a little?

"That ain't the point." Daryl chewed back his temper and trailed after Analeigh down the staircase.

"We're wasting time." Glenn reminded them again. "We've wasted enough already. We either do this now or we're here another night…without the guns. I say we make a run for it now and grab the guns as fast as we can, that way if we have to stay tonight we at least have more than enough to save our ass if we get jumped."

"What do you mean if?" Analeigh smirked and turned back towards them, bracing herself on the railing. "You're here another night whether you like it or not."

Rick followed her eye line towards a tiny, dirty window in the corridor of the stairwell. No benefit of electricity meant a rapid decent into night fall and already the world outside of the office tower had been graced with the eerie deep blue cast that dusk had to offer. It was far from pitch black of course, but walkers didn't seem to care one way or another about the varying degrees of nighttime. Once the heat of the day had started to dissipate it was never very long before they came out in full force. Dark was dark regardless of all else.

"Damn it." Rick ran a palm over his face as he tried in vain to regroup and come up with some sort of plan. "Well, that's that then.

"Sorry." Analeigh flashed a sarcastic smile.

"That's that?" Daryl spat, pacing across the landing at the top of the stairs like a big cat stalking back and forth in its cage working up the nerve or the strategy for an attack. "She says we're stuck here and that's the end of it?"

"It's not like there's much bend in the situation." Glenn offered. "The truck's what, a half mile from here."

"So?"

"So, we barely made it half that distance in broad daylight, and that was _after_ walker gut bath."

"That halves the odds, at best." Rick simplified.

"And Merle?" Daryl gnawed at his thumbnail anxiously, still pacing and never quite able to stay still for longer than a few seconds strung together. "Ya'll expect his odds to be any better out there?"

"Daryl…"

"Screw this." He spat, dodging around Rick with crossbow slung over his shoulder. "Ya'll don't wanna go out there, that's fine. I'll find him myself if I have to…"

"You gotta be kidding me." Rick chortled. "You can't out there."

"What difference is it to you?" He gave the group a hostile once over. "Never asked for your help anyhow, ya'll invited yourselves along. Woulda found him by now if I was by myself."

"You go out huntin' for your brother now all you're asking for is a death sentence. You do know that don't you?"

"We'll see about that."

Daryl grazed by Rick and made it all of a few steps towards exiting only to have Analeigh block his path. Tiny frame rooted at the top of the stairs, her reclaimed bat covered the span of the stairwell her outstretched arm could not.

"Move."

"I ain't gonna." Chin edging upwards in defiance, Analeigh held her ground.

His eyes narrowed, more in disbelief than aggravation. Whoever she was, or rather whomever she _thought_she was, she had her share of balls at the very least and Daryl made a mental note to inform her later that she was lucky she was a woman. If she hadn't there was no doubt whatsoever that she'd be picking her teeth off the floor by now.

"Move," He growled again and took a step closer to her. "Or I'll move you."

"You really wanna go out there?"

He nodded.

"Chasing after a brother you don't even know is alive?" Analeigh cracked a half sympathetic smile. "That worth being torn to shreds to you?"

"Maybe it is."

"There ain't no one that wants to go out there with you, and rightly so." She leaned in slightly. "You've four arrows in your favor, how the hell's that gonna work for you when you're cornered by a pack of forty?"

"Why do _you_ care so much?" Daryl fed Analeigh's words back to her.

"I don't." She sighed and lowered her bat. "You wanna go, then go. I'm tryin' to cut a bargain here but seeing as you seem to have a death wish _Darlin'_you go right on ahead."

"Yeah? What makes you think anyone's gonna bargain with you?"

"The fact that I have the upper hand."

"What kind of a bargain?" Rick's interrupted, interest piqued.

"Ya'll have been yammerin' on about a bag of guns…I want one of them…and a fair bit of ammo to go along with." A bold request, if it could be called that, but one she was desperate enough to make.

"Be wasted on you." Daryl sneered smugly. "You probably can't even shoot."

"You wanna test that theory out?"

"You want one of our guns but I don't hear what you bring to the table." T-Dog chimed in, none too thrilled with the prospect of just up and giving away such a valuable asset.

"A place to sleep for the night, ya'll don't have one." Analeigh offered. "I chain you in with me for the night, you give me a gun and we all live to see another day. Seems like a fair trade to me."

"And if we do give you a gun, what then?" Rick asked. "What happens to you from there?"

"Home…" Clearing her throat, she turned her eyes to the floor solemnly. "I home."

"And home is where exactly?"

"Far away…does it really matter?"

"Anything far away now a days is risky." Rick folded his arms across his chest. "You thought about just how it is you're gonna get _home_?"

"Well, see…there's these things on the end of my legs and they're called 'feet'. I use them for this concept called 'walking' and it's real easy like. Takes a while but it'll get me there."

"Now who's got the death wish?" Daryl scoffed.

"Don't recall asking for your commentary on the matter." She sighed. "Look, deal or not it's up to you if or how I try and make my way home. But you'd best sort out if we have a deal or not so you can suss out your own little bunker if you wanna be on your way."

"How many guns did you say were in that bag?" Glenn asked, trying to assess whether or not the proposition was even feasible.

They needed everything they had as it was, and giving a way guns willy-nilly seemed irresponsible at best and beyond reckless at the very worst.

"I didn't keep count, but enough to get by on with a few left over." Rick assured him. "Analeigh has a point, we need some place that's damn good and secure. They can't have much left to eat around here and we're prime pickings if they smell us…which of course they will. We need locking doors between us and them or we're about done."

"Come on, there's gotta be a dozen good places to hide out in around here." Daryl grumbled. "I say we ditch the mouthy little…"

"Everywhere you go will be crawlin' with them, you get lucky enough it make it down the block you ain't gonna do it without a hundred, if not more, hot on your trail I can guarantee you that." Analeigh cut him off with an icy stare. "Unless you got horse shoes up your ass you ain't gonna find someplace to seal yourselves off completely. You got a plan for keepin' them from getting' at you?"

"We got chain."

"The chain's not the problem." T-Dog reminded the group. "We cut the lock when we busted the door down, I doubt there's another in the tool kit."

"Well hell, don't worry." Analeigh laughed, still staring Daryl down. "I'm sure you can just…tie it in a knot and ya'll will be just peachy."

"You think this is fuckin' funny?" Daryl clenched his jaw and took a couple of quick strides towards her. "You think this is a game?"

"Lay off her Daryl, she's only tryin' to make her case." Rick intercepted him and once again attempted to settle the dynamic.

The groups exchanged a silent glance collectively cursing themselves on account of how foolish they had been to think that anything would actually go off without a hitch for a change when that sort of thing just plain didn't happen anymore.

"You're call." Analeigh shrugged, cautiously lowering her bat and freeing up the stairwell. "We good or no?"

"We are good." Rick nodded. "No other way about it, you'll get your gun come first light and we'll leave you be if that's what you want."

He extended his hand in attempt to shake on the bargain. Rick was and had always been a man of his word, but he was quite certain Analeigh would need his tongue to come notarized in order to believe him. Even a handshake seemed like a silly notion that wouldn't really do much to set her at ease, but it was worth a shot. Only but a small gesture of faith, but something he wouldn't feel right about not imparting.

Analeigh remained steadfast a moment, leaving Rick to silently encourage her before she relented. Doing her best not to audibly exhale the breath she had partially been holding the entire time the entire time they had been in the stairway, she stepped forward and took his hand. A firm shake and the deal was sealed with the first kind contact she had with someone else in weeks, something that was now almost a foreign feeling.

"Well, come on then." She nodded her head in the direction of the floor below and waited to take her turn down the stairs as one by one they slipped past he with Daryl the last one to leave.

Quite intentionally, he moved by her far more closely than would ever have been necessary. Shoulder grazing hers, his eyes near burned a hole clear through her in the same sort of stare she would gave given him were their roles reversed. The same sort of stare she _was_ as present giving right back, and the kind of stare that under different circumstances would have her feeling more than a little wobbly in the knees.

Whether it was currently to be taken as some sort of threat or just simple reminder, it was quite clear that he didn't like her just the same as she didn't like him and if nothing else, that alone was going to make for a long evening to say the least.


	5. Chapter Four: Vatos Pt Four

_(A/N: Later than expected but here is the next re-write. I'm choked I wasn't able to get it all rewritten thus far by the weekend but unfortunately work duty has to come first *grumble grumble* and it's not likely I'll have anything uploaded before the weekend, it's a CRAZY busy week. But I'm still chipping away at it, and now that we're going to have to endure two months of hiatus hell writing and reading fan fic…and possibly obessessively rewatching episodes is going to be how I make it to Feb so…we have lots of time for new chapters right? ;))_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Four: Vatos: Pt. Four<strong>_

As far as holing up in any given office building, or any floor of such building, Analeigh did alright for herself in one respect. While her new found "home" was far from what she would call comfortable exactly, it was secure enough to stay in for the time being, which was really the only thing that actually mattered anymore.

Even in ruin, it bore all the makings of what must have been some booming business when things were still up and running. A law firm maybe, or an insurance brokerage, some high-end corporate center, or an elite advertising agency. It was something noteworthy whatever the case was, but now just a ghost of itself concealed behind heavy oak doors run through and ruined just like the rest of the city.

Stacks of office papers and assorted mail blanketed the floor in every direction. The walls were scuffed and stained, decor and paintings were skewed as they hung if not toppled to the ground. Doorframes were cracked and kicked in. Potted plants, chairs, and desks were overturned. Even glass office dividers were smashed to bits and left littering the ground with piles of crystalline shards. It was hard to tell which was creepier or more depressing, the state of Atlanta as a hole, or one the one lowly section of office space that now essentially comprised Analeigh's world.

By comparison, living out by the quarry seemed like heaven on earth. At least out in the thick of the country it was possible to pretend that everything was as it should be, even if it were just for a moment. At the quarry, there was enough that needed to get done to keep thoughts occupied and hold the mood slightly lighter than it probably should be. If not that, at the very least, they could still pretend that they were just out on one long camping trip. Life was still good when it was possible to avoid reality and even above that, they had each other for luxury of a little company. Poor Analeigh didn't have the privilege of anything at all by comparison, but on the other hand she had survived thus far and all things considered, that was something not everyone was still around to lay claim to. To survive, was a rarity at the worst of times, and something she should take more pride in than she probably ever would.

Not having been around anyone for weeks, having others suddenly thrust into her presence was a nicety as much as it was a hard ship. Rick and the others continued to pose a billion questions and most often in rapid enough succession that it made it difficult to get much out in the way of an answer to one laid out without being smacked with the next. What answers Analeigh was able to give to completion spun off into aspects of the groups own experience, though that in itself she was a little more open to conversing about than everything they wanted to know about what had happen to her since the shit hit the fan.

Close quarters did about as much to help the strain of friendly conversation and sociability just about as well as whatever lingering mistrust for the men Analeigh still played over in her head. With the company of four new "friends" what had once been her not so spacious have grew even tighter by the second, it seemed, even before the decision that they would all hole up in the largest office space for the evening. Skepticism and lingering mistrust of the men, however little it was, continued to play with her mind and close quarters did nothing to help. Despite her Analeigh's protests it was decided they would all hole up in the largest individual office space. What had been and still was Analeigh's somewhat spacious haven was anything but. She wasn't pleased about the entire situation as it was; it was a means to an end type of deal and even then Analeigh could barely tolerate it. Now, having been arbitrarily out voted on just what the temporary living conditions would be like, she was just a little more than put out. Four men spread out amongst the general disarray of the office was enough as it was. Add in the haphazardly stacked supplies she had gathered, the hurricane lamps, and the small amount of personal belongings strewn about and claustrophobic didn't come close to being a strong enough descriptive word. Analeigh needed to get away from them; get away from the polite conversation and company. She so desperately needed a moment to herself, just to calm her head down, breathe and readjust, even if it so happened to come while tending to more unpleasant matters than just a simple, refreshing step out. Any reason to duck out inconspicuously was good enough for her; beggars couldn't be choosers after all.

She slipped away when everyone else was embroiled in some sort of grand conversation about plans and it was quite certain nobody would care to take much notice of her leave at all. It was quiet down the hall, dark and empty, and in an odd sense, almost soothing. Analeigh half considered just sleeping in out in the open floor plan of the office or in the next best space she could find. But the way the broken windows let the breeze gust through the building, however, reminded her of just how cool it could get at night. Curled up on the floor, miserable and shivering wasn't how she envisioned, nor intended, spending her evening just on account of unexpected company of any sort.

Rounding the corner she gripped the wall and awkwardly hobbled into a small area that once served as some form of lunchroom for employees. Used dishes cluttered the skink and a couple empty water cooler bottles were heaped in the corner beside an packed trashcan with garbage scattered here and there across the floor. It wasn't the freshest looking room, and quite frankly she was surprised it didn't smell worse than it did, but unfortunately the kitchen was where the first aid station was. If the only time she had to sneak to herself was right then, she had no choice but to take care of her leg; she'd been harassed enough about it as was and if she could clean it up a bit maybe she would be granted a reprieve.

With grimace Analeigh side stepped a puddle of thick mystery liquid seeping from under the fridge and hoisted herself up on a narrow countertop next to an industrial looking sink. Gingerly, she stretched her leg out in front of her and slowly inched back the hem of her skirt, careful to take her time as though it would have some sort of positive impact if she didn't rush. Just as always, however, disappointment and shattered hope was the name of the game. Clenching her teeth tightly, she hissed as she pulled back the last but of material and set her eyes on a rather disheartening sight. Thick strips of dull white gauze wound securely around her thigh, criss-crossed with two scraggly ends twisted and fashioned into a tight knot to keep the whole mess in place. Most of the wrap had been solidly pasted to her skin, soaked through, stained bright crimson and laden with a significant amount of fresh blood. It was clearly something more than just any small cut, as she so insinuated, and with a defeated sigh Analeigh set about the task of tending to her affliction.

Bandage more or less pasted to her skin, she pulled up the edges gently and slowly unraveled the entire mess from her leg one saturated layer at a time. Sucking the air between her teeth, Analeigh flinched every time a piece would pull at her skin, tugging away from the semi dried crust at the edges of what was revealed to be a deep gash running almost the entire length of her thigh. Dark green thread laced through her flesh, a good dozen stitches held the top of the wound closed precariously while another half dozen more were quite uselessly spit and splayed nearer to her knee; undoubtedly broken open on account of her spill down the stairs. The skin around wound was raw and enflamed, caked with dried blood and what dirt she could never really quite get properly cleaned away. Hardly the way anyone would home an injury of such degree to look during any stage of healing but try as she might, Analeigh could never do much to make it look, let alone heal or feel any better with what limited supplies and know how she had at her ready.

Jarred by the sight of her broken stitches and the thought of having to go through the ordeal of having to sew her own flesh shut again, Analeigh couldn't help but let the tears come. She hated looking after her leg, every day it got a little more unbearable a chore to do and it wasn't because it was an uncomfortable task, or that it was somewhat gruesome to have to do. More over it was the fact that no matter how many times a day she tried to look after it and no matter how careful she tried to in protecting it or keeping it clean, the wound simply refused to mend itself. All of her effort thus far had been for so little in the way of progress, and now half of that was efficiently undone. One more thing to have the proverbial knife at her throat and her back against the wall. One more thing in a long list that would stack the odds against her and make what was left of her life next to impossible on a good day.

Supplies were running low, and moving about a city crawling with walkers would be as good as ringing a damn dinner bell. Analeigh had already pressed her luck once in moving from one part of the city to the next while bleeding like a stuck pig, and she felt more than confident in guessing that sort of thing was a one-time deal. She was never going to get far on her leg in the state that it was in. Wound aside, Rick had been right in questioning the stability of her ankle as he had. She could manage enough speed over short distances to avoid being nabbed by a swarm of the dead, but walking for hours with her scent in the wind and unable to move much faster than everything that wanted to tear her limb from limb would have her doomed from the get go.

Analeigh wanted to go home. It was all she longed for in the world was to get out of the nightmare into which she had wandered and it was the one thing she couldn't have. That was the real heart of the matter, whether her leg ever healed properly or not was beside the point in her opinion. All she wanted was to be home, and instead she was sitting in a filthy kitchen tending to her wound with gauze that wouldn't be enough by half to re-bandage with.

"Shit."

Analeigh half jumped out of her skin as Rick's voice sliced through the room without warning.

"If that's what you call nothin' I'd hate to see what somethin' looks like to you."

"Jesus," She hissed, quickly swiping at her tears as she fumbled to pull her skirt back down over her leg. "You can't knock or something?"

"Sorry," He shrugged an apology and mustered a sheepish smile. "Didn't mean to scare you, I just came to find out where you got to."

"Well, congratulations," She sighed. "Looks like you found me."

"I did."

Rick's attention riveted on Analeigh, unwavering and not about to up and leave until he had a few more answers at the very least. He knew that she knew he had seen how bad her leg was, and now that he had he wasn't just going to up and let it slide. He would have been happy to have humored her a little longer, let her play down just exactly how badly she was injured, but even in the dim light of the kerosene lamp it was clear obliging her was no longer the best course of action.

"Somethin' you need?" Analeigh cast a nervous glance over her shoulder and balled up a wad of gauze in her hand.

"No…not that I can think of."

"Alright then…"

Rick circled around to face her, arms folding across his chest and eyes locked on hers in disbelief. "How long were you gonna go on pretending that isn't what it is?"

"I ain't pretendin' nothin' and I told you to just leave it be."

"Now, how can I do that when you know damn well you can't mind that on your own? That is bad and that is…" He whistled lowly. "That is somethin' else."

"It's fine." She replied quietly. "_I'm_ fine."

"You know, you're startin' to sound like a broken record player."

Analeigh shot him a glare. "So what?"

"So, I don't know who you're tryin' to convince with that, me or you?" Rick smirked a little and leaned back against the counter beside her. No matter how closed off Analeigh had talked herself into being, he had about a million and one ways to pull what he needed out of her and he wasn't opposed to spending all night doing just that. "You're a tough nut to crack."

"Do me a favor and spare me the tacky one liners." Analeigh huffed. "I'm…"

"_Fine_, I know." He finished her sentence. "You're stubborn as a mule but you're just fine."

Rick turned his eyes downward and drummed his fingers against his thigh in thought. She was hardheaded; there was no questioning that much. It went without saying though, that it wasn't exactly a stretch to make the assumption that said toughened exterior and unwillingness to bend was little more than an adaptation to her current environment. Letting her guard down and letting someone in at the very least would make Analeigh _seem_ weak to anyone close enough to take advantage. Weak people didn't make it on their own and being tough as nails was one way to go about surviving, maybe the only way she knew of by his approximation. Rick had always been good at making people see things from a broader perspective, however, making them see things in a way that they might not otherwise have ever considered and in a way that would let him help them if they couldn't do for themselves. If he was good enough with his words and his manner, he felt like there wasn't anyone he couldn't get through to if he tried hard enough and Analeigh was no exception.

She needed his help, of that much Rick was quite soundly convinced, and not just on account of her leg. It had to be terrifying being stuck in the city without a soul to call a friend, fending for her self and never having a moment to truly ease up in her vigilance. Somewhere buried deep down inside he, he knew that Analeigh did in fact actually _want_somebody's help no matter how much she denied it. It didn't even necessarily have to be his when it came down to it, though he imagined his offer would most likely be the only one that would come. Stubborn little spit fire as she was, Rick knew deep down all Analeigh wanted was someone, anyone on her side just as they all did. The least he could do is try and wear her down a little, make her see she didn't _have_to be all on her own if she didn't want to. Even if all night, he would chip away at her formidable front for her own benefit if not in some ways for his own.

"You stitch that yourself" He arched a brown and gestured to her leg.

"Guess I must have," Analeigh snarked. "Unless you see someone else around here could have done it for me."

"Must of hurt like hell with no anesthetic." He hissed through his teeth. "Tough girl…brave too."

"Brave and tough's got nothin' to do with it. We do what we have to so as to get by right?"

"I suppose." He agreed. "That's more than I could ever do for myself though."

"You'd be surprised when it's do what you gotta do or sit there and bleed to death." She shrugged. "It's a shit job, doesn't even wanna close up."

"Won't knit and you still wanna convince yourself you're just fine?"

Analeigh hung her head slightly, lost for words and once again wishing she was anywhere other than where she was at present.

"Just a look." Rick said gently. "I ain't gonna hurt you."

"Yeah…"

"I promise." He dipped his head slightly and caught her eye line once more, doing his best to impart some sort of reassurance that could ring through to her.

Setting her jaw in a momentary last flare of defiance, with a shaky sigh Analeigh complied and slipped the material of her skirt upwards. She hated being put on the spot and forced to do things more than anything. That aside, it was quite clear that Rick was just not going to let the matter rest until he got his way and she didn't have the mind to hear it ad nauseum until morning.

"Happy?" She spat, seething at herself a slightly for relenting.

"Not even a little." Rick grimaced, pulling the lantern a little neared. "It hurt?"

"What do you think?"

He held up a hand in defense and gestured for the gauzed tucked in her hand. "You mind sayin' where you got this?"

"Broken glass." She muttered, her head slung low and eyes cast to the side.

"Really?" Rick furrowed his brow, not particularly in the mood to revert back to milking answers out of her. "Must have been a big ass piece of glass to do that."

"It was."

"And you jut so happened to have enough luck to meet up with it." He tore a small piece off the larger wad of bandage with his teeth and saturated it with the remnants of a small bottle of disinfectant.

"Luck's one way to put it." Analeigh smirked. "It was a broken glass door…I fell."

"Just like that?

"No…not exactly.

Rick turned his attention away from the wound momentarily and met her downcast stare. "Then _what_ exactly?"

"I was uh…" She cleared her throat, chasing back a lump of emotion building in her chest. "Gettin' away."

"Walkers?"

She chuckled. "If you think the dead are the only things out here that'll kill you, you're either naïve or pretty damn delusional."

The penny dropped and Rick shook his head. "Looters."

"Wouldn't be the end of the world with out 'em." Analeigh joked. "Best I can figure they stick to where the apartments are mostly. Works out better for them I guess, being easier to get more supplies. There ain't nothin' much to raid around here except for office supplies. That's why I came to stay out here. Guess it's where I shoulda just come to begin with, woulda saved myself a shitstorm if I had."

"What happened?"

Rick dabbed at the edges of her would as gently as he could, cleaning the dirt away before swiping lightly at the opened area.

"Ain't important." Analeigh replied, avoiding detail as much as she could. The last thing she needed was a full-blown recounting to make her relive everything she didn't want to. "I made a stupid mistake and this is what I got for it."

"They hurt you any?"

A sad smile splayed across her face. "You could say that."

"That how you got that shiner?"

"Yep," She nodded. "And ain't it a beauty?"

Rick chuckled and took another few swipe at the wound, falling silent as he worked. Surveying her leg to take not of any missed dirt, it was then that he first took notice. A secondary set of bruises much different from the others scattered across her leg. Even in the dim light of the lantern they stood out against her skin clear as day, almost like a beacon specifically meant to draw his attention. These bruises matched near perfectly, one long distinct bruise on each inner thigh and a small cluster on the outside of her good leg that all but screamed finger marks. More than enough to drop Rick's heart to his as the pieces came together in his mind. He had seen that sort of bruising but a couple times before and there wasn't any question as to how exactly the poor girl had managed to come by them.

"Analeigh…" He mustered a sympathetic glance upward. "Honey…"

"I don't want to talk about it." She rasped flatly, eyes now brimming with tears and wringing the hem of her skirt in tiny clenched fists as though it would some how help her escape another push of emotion. "Please don't make me talk about it.

"My God…" Rick whispered, a good mix of disgust and anguish on Analeigh's behalf passing across his features.

"I can't…" She lapsed momentarily and a gut-wrenching sob wracked through her body.

"It's okay…you don't have to…you don't have to say anything." His hand fell softly on her shoulder, drawing a sharp flinch as Analeigh pulled away from him slightly before relaxing under his touch.

"I was just trying to get home…" She choked again. "I just wanted to go home." Another sob, and then another and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand as she tried to reign in her composure with no real result. "I can't stay here, but I ain't gonna make it back even if I try so I-I don't _know_ what to do. What am I supposed to do? No one can tell me what I'm supposed to do…" She turned big watery eyes upwards towards Rick's imploringly. "Where am I supposed to go now?"


	6. Chapter 5: Vatos Pt Five

_**(A/N: Well, I can say this is WELL over due but what can I say, life got in the way lol. On top of a very, very busy work schedule from the month of November onwards, there was the damn holiday season to contend with, and on top of THAT I had a baby two weeks ago so I've been a little swamped lol. Anywho, I have returned and fear not, I will get to some new material an through these re-writes as soon as possible but please forive me if updates are a little sporadic! Enjoy!)**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Five: Vatos Pt: Five<strong>_

"Daryl, for Christ's sake, hold your goddamn voice down for once in your life." Rick seethed through clenched teeth.

"I won't." He snapped, posturing in typical fashion, pacing a tread in the floor with eyes set in a dead glare to match the soured jut of his lower jaw.

"Analeigh is right there in the other room in case you just so happen to have forgotten."

"So?"

"You want her to hear you?"

"Fine. Let her. You think I care? Gotta be kiddin' me…either that or ya'll are outta your damn minds."

"Look, we don't exactly have much choice okay?" T-Dog leaned back against a desk and folded his arms across his chest.

"The hell we don't." Daryl scoffed. "Don't have much choice…are you serious? Please…someone tell me ya'll don't _actually_ think this is a goddamn good idea…the girl can barely walk…"

"She's coming with us Daryl," Rick laid it on the line. "All your opinions aside we're leavin' here with her, it's up to you to like it or not."

"Is that right?"

He nodded with finality. "That _is _that."

Though he knew there was no real point in questioning things, there was absolutely no way Daryl could find fault in giving it an honest try never the less. He was the only one who seemed to remember what the exact point was in risking their collective ass and coming into the city. Bit by bit, everyone else had lost sight of the end goal or had just plain stopped caring that things had gone completely off the rails. He should have just up and blown Rick off when he had offered to take him to come and get Merle. Odds were if he had, both he and his brother would be back at camp now, safe and just as unconcerned with everyone else as they had always chosen to be. There in was the problem, however, because Rick apparently never just offered anything. Rick apparently jumped into everything as he saw fit head first without asking for anyone's two cents before he did. All for the greater good of course, like some superhero come to save the day whether people wanted to be saved or not and a fat lot of good it did anyhow. For all Rick's good intentions, all Daryl could see was the fact that the group was now stuck with a bleeding heart as a self proclaimed leader who did nothing but make everything more difficult and complicated than it needed to be.

The goal was, and had always been, to get Merle back. But as far as Daryl could see, with Rick's new revelation, that had been blown completely out of the water and there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of getting things back on track.

"Why don't you just calm down a minute and give yourself a chance to think this through rationally." Rick suggested, quiet suddenly sorry he had even made the decision to approach the topic at hand.

"Think rationally…" Daryl snarked. "I'm the only one of you assholes that _is_ thinkin' rationally. Ya'll can't see this ain't nothin' but askin' for trouble that's your own damn fault."

"It'll be fine…it's no skin off your nose and it doesn't concern you anyhow."

"The girl can _barely_ walk." He reiterated.

"Dude, where is it you think we're going to walk?" Glenn asked, taking a little more pleasure than he probably should have in Daryl's displeasure. "We didn't walk here and it's not like we'll be walking back."

"There's tons of room in the back of that van and you'll probably bother her more than she'll bother you. We get the guns, we have a look around for your brother, and once we find him we come back here for her." Rick tried to sweeten the deal through whatever means he could. "Easy as that, we'll before dark I can guarantee it."

"She don't even want our help." Daryl grumbled, kicking the toe of his shoe against the ground as his tempered slowed to a simmer as opposed to an outright boil. "I thought we were gonna give her a gun and let her go home, let that be the end of it."

"Home is about four hours out from the city by car. You wanna take a guess at how long that's gonna take her to walk?"

"On her own," T-Dog added. "With a busted up leg."

"Without enough food or water to get by on." Glenn furthered the argument.

"She needs our help Daryl." Rick finalized the conversation. "I'm willing to offer it."

"Yeah?" Daryl stepped towards him, his words laden with insinuation. "And just what did she _offer_ you to get so much damn support huh? She give you a little somethin' special to make you change your tune?"

"I'll let that slide once because I know your head don't process what comes flyin' out of your mouth too well at the best of times." Rick warned. "But you'd best watch what you're implyin'."

"Just sayin'…" He needled.

"That's enough."

"Pretty girl like that who wants to get her way as easy as possible…

"I didn't _do_ nothin'…" Catching the men off guard, Analeigh joined the conversation looking none too impressed as she stood her ground in what used to be the office doorway. "I didn't _ask _for nothin' neither…and no damn charity case neither."

"Yeah? Well just what are you then?"

She shook her head silently and dodged any form of answer. Whatever she could find to say it was more than likely Daryl would find a way to turn it around on her and shove it in her face if he could.

Point of contention came to mind, however. Outsider, outcast and flat out burden to the group were secondary self labels looming in the back of her mind to go along with the first despite efforts to find some random optimism. Daryl had already made up his mind about her, and Analeigh could do nothing to change that. She had learned a long time ago that there was no sense in trying to control and that was fine, but if that was how it was going to be if she were to take up with the camp, she might as well just ditch the idea and ask to be take as far out of the city as possible and dropped.

Analeigh had heard more or less the entire conversation, and though he went about it in entirely the wrong way, Daryl did have a point. She would be nothing more than an extra mouth to feed at that point, a drain on whatever strapped resources the group could scrape together. There wouldn't be anything much in the way of real labor or chores that she would be able to carry out with her leg in the shape that it was, and her injury stood just as great a chance at getting worse as it did getting better. If it did happen to get worse, there was no telling what would be come of her and even if there was it was probably better left unsaid. Rick's offer was beyond kind but what it came down to was how long they would truly want her around if she couldn't pull her own weight. Sympathy and acceptance were entirely different from pity and tolerance, and even in her current state, Analeigh didn't want to be dependent on anyone.

"I don't know I am." She answered with somewhat dejected shrug of her shoulders. "But I can tell you I ain't anytihin' think you've got worked out about me."

"Right." Daryl remained steadfast in his skepticism.

"She's human," Rick offered. "Nothin' more, nothin' less and that's enough for me. You want more, Analeigh has a bummed leg and your brother is missin' one of his hands. So where is there difference in that?"

"Blood is blood." Daryl snapped. "And with or without that stinkin' hand…"

"Merle can take care of himself, I know." He interrupted. "Analeigh cannot, not here and not anywhere else neither. You might be the most redneck, backwoods son of a bitch in the world but even you have a conscience Daryl, even if you don't wanna listen to it much. Your brother damn near killed us last time we were here, Analeigh more than likely saved our ass. You weigh that in your mind and tell me I ain't right."

Daryl clenched his jaw and looked away, knowing full well Rick was right and hating every second of it.

"Blood is blood yes, you are right in that." Rick continued. "What you've got to realize is blood ain't the only bond that'll keep us together and now is not the time to be turning our back on anyone."

"Fine."

"Analeigh _is_ comin' with us and that's the final word on the matter."

"I said _fine_." Daryl growled, poor sport sneer still plastered on his face. "Let's just…figure out what to do about these damn guns and get the hell outta before we're stuck another night."

"I think I might have something that could work." Glenn informed the group. "It might be a little risky but, I was plotting it out last night when I was trying to fall asleep and I think I've got it worked out enough that it'll be the fastest way to get our hands on the guns without drawing too much attention."

"Go on." Rick encouraged.

"I'll go get them." He laid it out bluntly. "If you let me go out on my own, I can get them and get back to you guys in five, maybe six minutes tops."

"You?" Daryl arched a brow.

"Yeah."

"Alone."

"That's what I'm saying." Glenn nodded.

Analeigh stifled a chuckle.

"Not to butt in and make any broad assumptions or nothing', but don't you think it should be someone with a little more body mass?" She asked. "I mean at least so as if one of those things knocks you down…you know…you'd have a fighting chance to get 'em off before you get bitten? One chomp on you, and you'd be through."

"One chomp on anyone and they'd be through." Glenn snarked.

"I'm just pointin' it out is all…" Analeigh smirked and held up her hands in mock defense. "You're sorta a little dude."

Daryl faltered for a moment, just a spit second, and flashed her a half smile. Their eyes met, again only for just a moment, before Analeigh's darted away and she scolded herself for such a silly reaction. This certainly wasn't high school and by all accounts, Daryl was little more than a redneck douchebag, now wasn't the time or the place to be going all to pieces just because a guy gave her a bit of a look that wasn't even the sort to be going all to pieces over, and especially not over someone like Daryl. He was so downright hostile and aggressive that there was no telling if was two seconds away from snapping and busting her one right in the mouth. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if he did, Analeigh knew the type well enough and she knew all the more she'd do better to have little, if anything, to do with him full stop.

"You're not doing this alone." Rick drew collective attention away from quick quips and back to the subject that needed to be of focus.

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much." Daryl agreed.

"It's a good idea okay?" Glenn protested. "If you just hear me out. If we go out there in a group, we're slow, drawing attention. If I'm alone, I can move fast."

"Fast ain't gonna help you when you're one and you can't say how many of them are between you and the guns." Rick reminded him.

"But see, I won't be _alone_, alone." He continued, laying out an action plan using bits of things on the desk and a roughed out diagram of the streets. "Look, that's the tank, five blocks from where we are now. That's the bag of guns, here's the alley I dragged you into when we first met. that's where Daryl and I will go."

"Why me?"

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun."

The more the plan was laid out and explained, the more sense it started to make and the better Glenn's idea started to seem. Though it was still a risk, he was fairly certain and probably right in the way that splitting up and having two points of coverage while one man made a dash for the guns was the best bet.

Analeigh hoped for their sake that Glenn was right in the fact he could be quick enough to not draw the dead towards them. If they swarmed again, they'd be cornered in the office building with no good chance at making it back to the van and for how long was anyone's guess. Worse yet, little hope would be non-existent hope if there just so happened to be a swarm while the men were divided in the allies. If there was a swarm and even one of them made it back alive it would be lucky, two or more would be a small miracle and if it came down to it, Glenn would be the one to be right in the thick of it.

She gave her head a shake and fought off a shudder as the men continued to lay out their plan. All she could think about was worst case scenario and swarming dead, maze like alleys, and everything going to hell in a hand basket were things she didn't really want to think about in great detail. She hadn't been outside in days and even leaving the relative safety of the building was something that made her a little stiff with apprehension. Not knowing what was happening outside as the plan unfolded only amplified the fear.

"What about me?" She asked quietly, rocking on to her toes to try and peer over the men for another look at the map.

"What about you?" Rick arched brow.

"Where is it I'm gonna fit in to all of this exactly?"

"What, draggin' your gimpy ass all around out there?" Daryl snatched his crossbow from its spot against the wall. "How 'bout nowhere?"

"Was I talkin' to you?" Analeigh snapped.

"Answer's gonna be the same all round…or it better be anyhow."

She turned her attention towards Rick, who had only but a sympathetic shake of his head to offer.

"He's not wrong." He sighed. "All else aside from you stayin' put is just askin' for it. You go out there, you gotta be able to keep up if we get caught up in it, and keep up faster than you took to those stairs yesterday. That leg the way it is I cannot see that happenin'."

"So I sit here blind waitin' for whatever happens to happen?"

"Best I got." Rick smirked. "Unless you manage to think of something else that won't end up gettin' yourself killed."

Analeigh chewed her lip and mulled over the miniscule amount of options she had. It was quite clear, unfortunately, that both Rick and Daryl were in the right in that she was about as useless as anything and more of a dangerous hindrance than a help. Not that she actually wanted to be a part of the game plan so much as she wanted to keep an eye on everything and everyone in order to make sure that Rick's promise to come back for her wasn't just all talk and no follow through; benefit of the doubt only went so far after all. Now that she had let them bunk down for the night, there really wasn't anything left in the deal that would be of benefit to them. In all honestly, she wouldn't even hold it against them if they turned tail and left her hanging. Self-preservation was key and tacking one more on to their ranks defied common sense as far as she was concerned.

"The roof." Analeigh offered.

"The roof?"

"It's safe enough up there." She explained matter of factly. "Nothin's gong get at me and this way I get a birds I view of anythin' that goes down."

"I can live with that." Rick agreed. "But I'd feel better if you had a gun all the same."

"Well unless you plan on pulling one out of your ass, I don't see that happenin'. Can't exactly give me yours."

"All the same, I'd feel better if you did. Somthin' happens out there you're on your own again, and if we draw a crowd we don't have any place to lead them other than back here. If there's enough of 'em they might just sniff you out."

"I still have my bat, it'll do in a pinch." Analeigh reminded him, she wasn't completely useless after all and she'd managed to sneak under the radar the last time a swarm was stirred up. "At least up there I'll get a heads up if ya'll do get swarmed or torn to bits."

"That's…very encouraging." Glenn groaned, suddenly wishing he could withdraw his ingenious plan. "Thanks for that."

"Just being realistic."

"Best hope we don't." Daryl eyed her somewhat wearily. "Got a lot of stairs to make it down from the top before you can lock in safe. You sure that leg can handle it?"

"Didn't stop me from almost givin' you the slip did it?"

"You got 'bout a dozen more floors to make it down this time."

"I'm aware."

Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and made his way towards the door. "Just don't expect no one to come savin' your ass if your ass cornered on the roof by a pack of geeks."

"Who said I ever did?"

"Guys, come on." Glenn rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh.

As much as she hated to back down from asinine comments and direct jabs from anybody, especially someone like Daryl, it was quite clear they weren't going to get anywhere. Occasional back and forth was one thing but just as soon as there was a lull between them, one or the other just couldn't resist the urge to stir the pot. Like oil and water, they just refused to mix for longer than a few seconds at a time and that was only if they could muster that much. It was yet another aspect to going back to camp with the group that Analeigh wasn't exactly looking forward to. If things were a little tense at present, she imagined living day in, day out with him around and in her face would more than likely push her well past the point of breaking.

With clenched her teeth, she forced her attention away from a brewing bicker. "Ya'll best get to it."

"Ten minutes, at the most." Rick assured her. "We're ain't back you lock yourself in again."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"But if it does…"

Analeigh nodded. "I will."


	7. Chapter Six: Vatos Pt Six

_**(A/N: Whee! Here is the next re-write. Meant to have this up sooner than now but along with the business of life for the past little bit we've been arranging a relocation and so I've been a busy busy little bee and very exhausted by the time I have to sit and write. Hopefully the next update won't be so delayed!)**_

_**Chapter Six: Vatos: Pt. Six**_

To his credit, Glenn's plan played out _almost_ exactly on the street as it had when he had laid out the rough idea using office supplies. One man in the open as opposed to many proved to be just as quick and efficient as predicted in getting the job done and now the satchel of guns and ammo was once again safely in Rick's possession. The best laid plans seldom go off without a hitch, however, and the one glaring misstep in the grand ordeal was the fact that while the guns had indeed been returned, Glenn himself had not. An ambush, a unforeseen foil in their strategy and now they had put themselves one step forward only to fall a handful behind.

For the second time in as many days Analeigh's head was a jumble with thoughts racing through her mind faster than she could process them. The view from the rooftop had left quite a bit to be desired with all its angles and ledges fit to obscure a good eye line. Even when laying flat on her front and leaning out as far as she dared over the edge, it was hard to pick up a good sense of what was going on where Daryl and Glenn were positioned. Wind kicked up bits of gravel that pricked against her eyes and after days inside the glare of the sun was downright blinding without the benefit of sunglasses. Even the pits and pieces she had seen from her perch meant little at all to her with what little context there was to be had from such a distance. There was a vast difference between _seeing_ and _knowing_ as far as Analeigh was concerned anyways, and the only thing she had managed to sort out was that but a few seconds in their favor would have made for a completely different outcome.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl growled, slamming the butt end of his fist against the door and leaning against his forearm as he attempted to catch his breath. "This was a shit idea…didn't we all decide this was a god damn shit idea?"

"What the hell happened?" Analeigh fumbled with the doubled over strand of chain and pulled it free with a clumsy clatter.

"What's it look like happened?" His shoulder knocked against her roughly and he slipped into the office. "You had the prime view…you didn't pay attention or somethin'?"

"I saw dick all actually."

"What's it look like happened?"

"I was just askin'."

"Well, stupid questions get stupid answers." Daryl spat a mouthful of blood across the floor and swiped the back of his hand across the wide split in his lip.

"None of us that saw what happened." Rick put himself in the middle of things and ushered as scrawny looking kid, who was notably _not_ Glenn, into a small square office. "Are we gonna handle this or do I have to wait for you two to have it out again before we can get some damn answers?"

Analeigh turned her attention to the ground. Keeping her mouth shut had never been her strong suit at any point in her life and there was no question she shared at least part of the blame in stirring the proverbial pot. Milking a martyr's roll and insisting she hadn't done a thing was going to get her no where and beyond that it probably wasn't about to endear her to Rick, or anyone else for that matter, in the long run. With the amount of adrenaline and ever present testosterone undoubtedly flowing through Daryl's system at present, the least she could do was try her best to hold her tongue to herself. She'd yet to have found anything to say that didn't set him off and in keeping with the situation, even a helpful offering would probably do nothing other than further provoke his ever present temper.

"Can we do this or not?" Rick asked again pointedly waiting the favorable response he was fishing for.

"Why you askin' my permission?" Daryl flicked his tongue across his lip and spat again. "Get it over with…like we ain't got enough to do already."

"You fly off again in there and it ain't gonna help us none."

"Whatever."

Daryl stormed after Rick into the office and in a split second Analeigh was left to debate whether following was a good idea or not. A moment more and not without a little trepidation, her curiosity got the better of her.

Tension hung heavy in the room and even hanging back a ways, she felt awkward, out of place, and not at all like she had any business eavesdropping or being involved in anything that was about to unfold. Daryl's constant pacing did little to dissuade her feeling of unease. Never taking a moment to stop moving, he was ramped up on a fresh surge of adrenaline and over compensatory anger and neither of those things could lead to any good.

Analeigh tried to fix her attention elsewhere in the room, on the kid slouching back in the chair, or on Rick or T-Dog respectively. Hell even on the piles strewn across the desk would do just so long as she could keep somewhere, anywhere out of Daryl's direct path despite the fact that try as she might she couldn't help but lock on to him as he stalked about the room. Covertly as possible she would let her eyes trail after him on each pass and then look away as he turned and changed direction. Whether either of them liked it or not

Analeigh tried to fix her attention else where in the room; on the kid in the chair, on Rick himself or on T-Dog; hell, even the piles of paper strewn across the desk would do. Anything to keep her attention away from him was seemingly impossible to find. As unfortunate as it was, Analeigh couldn't help but fixate on Daryl as he stalked about the room; covertly letting her eyes trail after him on each pass. Whether he knew it or if it was intentional or not, he was apparently all too good at being the center of attention, even if he was completely unaware.

"Those men you were with," Rick leaned against a desk, square across from the kid from the alley. "We need to know where they went."

"Man, I ain't telling you nothin'."

"Jesus man," T-Dog jumped in, turning to Daryl for a little insight. "What the hell happened back there?"

"I told you," He spat. "This little turd and his douchebag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me."

"You're the one who jumped me puta. Screaming about trying to find his brother like it's my damn fault."

"He's lying." Analeigh offered quietly from the corner. "Daryl's right, they jumped him first."

Daryl eyed her, somewhat taken a back that she'd actually voluntarily stand up for him.

"Dumb bitch," The kid hissed. "Who asked you?"

"Watch your mouth." Rick warned. "You talk to me, you don't talk to her."

"Didn't get a great view, but that much I was able to suss out." She smirked slightly. "That and the arrow in the ass."

"You shot someone in the ass?" T-Dog's voice jumped a couple of octaves.

"Was about the only thing I could do." Daryl shrugged. "Who knows…they took Glenn, they could have taken Merle too."

"Merle?" The kid scoffed. "What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle."

Surprisingly little provocation always seemed to have the greatest effect on Daryl's temper. Much as predicted, and much as Rick had warned against, he lashed out in a split second. He charged towards the kid with a growl only to have Rick intercept as he flung his leg out in an attempted swift kick. The first genuine flare of anger Analeigh had been witness to that didn't involve a puffed chest, faux threats, and a biting verbal assault.

"Daryl…" Rick grappled with him and only just barely managed to throw him back a ways. "Daryl, back off."

"I told him I was gonna stomp his ass!" Daryl eyed the backpack Glenn had left behind and formulated some sort of plan that was more Rick's style. "Kid's gonna talk in circles around us and be a smartass he deserves what's coming to him.

Analeigh rocked up on her hands slightly, and hoisted herself up a little higher on her perch. Daryl had ripped the pack open, rifled through, and randomly pulled out an old and neatly folded handkerchief, the contents of which made her jaw drop.

"Wanna see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?"

With a sickening thud, Merle's grayed and revolting looking severed hand landed in the kid's lap and sent him flying from the chair with a chain of horrified screams.

Daryl lunged for him again and pinned him against the ground. "I'll start with the feet next time."

"That's enough." Rick pulled him back again.

"Man…leave the boy alone." T-Dog aligned himself with Rick. "Maybe if you get outta his face for a damn minute he just might start talkin'."

"Yeah, well maybe we ain't givin' him the option of not."

"Guess your momma never taught you you'll catch more flies with honey than you will with vinegar huh?" Analeigh added.

"Whatever…you want us to play nice, you ever stop to think maybe his friends are the ones that knocked your ass around?" Daryl grumbled and circled the room again to at least look like he was trying to temper himself down a little. "Ya'll are so busy making friends, ain't anyone considered it except for me…girl gets the snot beat outta her and those assholes are the only ones we've seen around…pieces fit to me."

"They didn't touch her." The kid sighed in aggravation as he pulled himself together. "They wouldn't mess with any chick man, I swear."

"And we're just gonna take your word on it?"

The kid clammed up again and offered little more than a half assed shrug and a self assured smirk to keep the room guessing.

"He look familiar to you?" Daryl asked, damn near willing Analeigh to confirm that he did so that a little more force would be undoubtedly justified. "Even just a little."

"I dunno…" She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with suddenly having the attention drawn towards her situation. "I mean, I don't think so...coulda been anyone right?"

"Well, there can't be that many people still left around here." T-Dog suggested.

"You'd be surprised." The kid mumbled matter of factly.

"You sure you didn't get a good look at them?" Rick sighed, not really wanting to get into Analeigh's business in front of everyone but full well knowing it was something else that needed resolution if possible. "Maybe he wasn't one of them, but maybe he might have been around?"

"No." She muttered, diverting her eyes. "I-I don't know, I can't remember…sorry."

"That's fine." He assured her. "There's not much we can do if you can't remember, no one'll press you on it if you don't want to be pressed."

"Really?" Daryl scoffed. "You just gonna give up and call it fine just cause she don't remember? You gonna let them get away with it?"

"It…_it _Daryl? We don't know if they did any damn thing at all." Rick reminded him.

"So what?"

"So, maybe we ain't about to go picking fights where we don't need to be. Now we give them back theirs and they give us back ours and that's where it ends." He folded his arms across his chest and laid things out in no uncertain terms. "Maybe you're lookin' to go beat someone's ass but that won't end in anything but a shitstorm."

"Maybe we oughta send a message." Daryl countered. "Just 'cause the world's gone to shit don't mean they can just mess with people. Start throwin' punches…make it real clear."

"You might feel differently about that when it's your ass getting beat down…again." T-Dog reminded him. "We don't even know what we're walking into. We're thee, they could be thirty for all we know."

"All I'm sayin' is when shit for brains tells us where his homies are hangin' out we bring her with us and she tells us if any on 'em look familiar…whatever happens next just happens."

"_She_ doesn't get a say in all this." Analeigh bristled, taking none too kindly at Daryl apparently deciding for her where she did and did not go.

"Why wouldn't you want to?"

She tossed a quick, fretful glance in Rick's direction.

"She said she doesn't remember." He reiterated.

"Might trip her memory." Daryl twirled his fingers at his temple. "Get her wheels spinnin'…she might just come around if she sees 'em."

"No." Rick shook his head and held fast to his word.

"Man, what's the problem? She recognizes them, we lay it down…she doesn't we get Glenn back and get the hell on the way."

"I won't tell you again to let it go."

"Why?"

"Look at her…" Rick skirted him to the side slightly. "You look at her and you tell me you honestly think that would be a good idea. That girl is about to break and whatever it is you think happened, I can tell you right now you don't know the half of it."

Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly and peered over at Analeigh who at once quieted and seemed tense, and uncomfortable with the conversation.

"They did a lot more than just throw a few hits and give her a good scare." Rick's voice fell barely above a whisper. "If you can't read between the lines I will spell it out for you, but not here and not in front of her." He continued. "Now, I don't care how much you two can't seem to get along, even you have to know that putting her in that sort of situation. Maybe coming face to face with whoever it was that did _that_ to her…you _really_ wanna force that when there ain't a thing we can do except rough 'em up a little and then be on our way? You think that's gonna make her feel any damn better at all? You think that's gonna be enough?"

Daryl grit clenched his jaw and bit back another wave of temper.

"And what if you put that seed in her mind? That she's gonna recognize someone even if she don't." Rick suggested. "You think she's gonna be alright knowing we're so close to someone she _thinks_ attacked her? As far as Analeigh knows, whoever attacked her has moved on, maybe hundreds of miles from here. She fought free, and you can bet she wonders just what would have happened if she didn't. There is enough to worry about out there and she doesn't need to be scared shitless whoever attacked her is gonna come outta nowhere and finish the job. She gets left outta this, she's got nothing to do with anything…we clear?"

Daryl nodded. "Crystal."

Though he was somewhat resentful in accepting the fact that he had been overruled on the matter, he full well knew that a valid point had been posed. Out of all of them Rick was, after all, the one who cared about everything and everyone the most from as much he had seen anyways. Looking out for people's best interests was an admirable trait without question. Whether or not doing so without taking appropriate action was going to get them anywhere was another story entirely.

Sidestepping Rick, Daryl circled around the desk slowly and rather uncharacteristically calm in his demeanor. All he needed was just enough cool to throw the others off even just a little, make them think he was at least attempting to harness whatever composure he was capable of even if it couldn't possibly be further from the truth.

Whether or not he liked Analeigh was beside the point really. Unlike Merle, Daryl actually had a heart and he had the mind enough to know what was right and what was wrong even though most of the time he erred on towards the unfavorable choices in life. If he knew one thing, however, he knew that you didn't beat on women and get way with it. All the more, he sure as hell knew that whoever had the balls to treat Analeigh the way they did deserved lot more than he could ever lay down on them, but if the chance ever presented itself it wouldn't stop him from having a go.

Rick was right in that respect. Daryl was more than willing to pick a fight over the matter and just who was to be the victim was but an afterthought and nothing more. The only viable target present in the current scenario, unfortunately enough for him, was the kid who was still cowering and shaken on the floor. He'd catch hell for it undoubtedly, but it would without a doubt feel infinitely better to unleash a little hell than it did sitting around and talking about things all day long. Odds were it would be worth the fallout and even if it wasn't Daryl wasn't sure he even cared.

Just as all focus was turned back to the issue of finding Glenn and dealing with the fall out from what had happened in the alley, Daryl seized his opportunity while he still could. Lunging at the kid, he grabbed him by the scruff of his well stained shirt and hauled him roughly to his feet. Before anyone could react Daryl had him slammed against the wall, wide eyed and quaking in his grip. Landing one blow hard and square on the kids jaw, then another Daryl pulled back for a third only to have Rick swiftly intercept.

"Daryl…" He grabbed Daryl's arm mid swing and bent it painfully around his back, giving him a good yank back and wrenching him away sharply. "For fuck's sake get off of him!" He hauled down on Daryl's arm slightly to make a point. "I warned you there ain't room for this shit in here! Ballin' up and knockin' the kid around won't help us none…control your damn self or get the hell out."

Crumpled to the floor with hand to his face, the kid shrunk against the wall, expecting a secondary attack that never came. Daryl all but pitched a fuss as he wrangled himself away from Rick and with another false threat and a curse under his breath, Daryl yanked his cross bow off of the ground and stormed out of the office.

"Man." T-Dog whistled lowly, braking momentary silence that hung over the room.

"Yeah." Rick cleared his throat and took a moment to process how to proceed with things.

"He's gonna leave."

"I'd doubt even Daryl is stupid enough to go outside right now." He heaved a sigh and passed a hand over his brow.

"In that state…I wouldn't exactly call Daryl smart."

"Well if he does leave it's his own damn fault." Rick snapped. "We can't worry about that right now. There's more here to deal with than a pissy redneck set on one speed."

"I can keep an eye on him." Analeigh offered unexpectedly.

T-Dog eyed her incredulously. "You serious?"

She nodded.

"You do what you wanna do…I ain't gonna stop you." Rick cracked an amused smirk. "Won't lie and tell you it's your best idea either."

"I need a little air anyway." Analeigh slipped deftly off the desk and with a slight note of hesitation made her way off to find Daryl.

The threat of Daryl actually leaving the building was about as unlikely as it was for pigs to grow wings and fly. Analeigh had dutifully chained the doors back up once they were all inside and in order to break the lock, he would have to find something that as a little more helpful than a stapler or the leg of a busted up chair, which was another unlikelihood in itself. Even if he did, Daryl would have made a right racket in the process, which meant no possibility of casually slipping away. It wasn't for concern that Daryl was about to put himself in direct path of harm that Analeigh followed him out of the room and tracked him down but more so a strange sort of gratitude. She couldn't thank him for giving the kid a beating of course, that much would be wrong she knew but still she felt she had to say something. What exactly that something was, or why exactly it had to be said at that precise moment was anyone's guess.

"Hey…" She called after him quietly as he half stomped back in the direction of their sleeping quarters. "You wanna hold up a minute?"

"Not really."

"Just…please…" Analeigh's brows knit together anxiously. Riled up as he was, trying to engage Daryl in any sort of discourse was more than likely tantamount to poking a pissed off bear with a stick.

"They send you out here to babysit or somethin'?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly…" Daryl scoffed and turned heel towards her. "The _what_?"

"I dunno." She shrugged. "Just…you ain't plannin' on goin' back out there again are you?" Her fingers wrapped in the hem of her dress. "I mean…not right now anyways…not after ya'll just stirred up a damn hornet's nest."

"What's it any of your business? Ain't anything you can do to stop me if I am."

"Yeah…" Analeigh nodded, meekly diverting her gaze from his. "I know that."

"Why don't you run along the? Go on back to the others and throw your two cents in every time you think someone gives a shit 'bout what you got to say."

Analeigh crooked her jaw and rolled her eyes to herself. No that she had expected anything that resembled extreme niceties but it would have been nice for a change if Daryl had been willing to set aside hostilities even just for a moment.

"You always gotta be an asshole?" She folded her arms across her chest defensively.

"Yeah, I do. So what?"

"You're unbelievable."

"And you're a nosey little bitch…some light tough honey wanna be that jumps at the first chance for a free ride."

"You ain't got a damn clue." Analeigh seethed. "I told you I didn't ask for shit! You don't know a damn thin about me."

"I know enough…what makes you think I wanna know more?"

She stumbled slightly, grazing the wall and scraping her injured leg sharply with yelp as in standard fashion Daryl pushed past her a little too aggressively.

"You think it's easy for me?" She spat, eyes welling with tears on account of bruised ego as much as a fresh surge of pain in her thigh. "You think it's easy to know what to do, or what to say? You think I know who I can trust in all of this? You think riding my ass is gonna make it any easier or that it's gonna help you out any?"

Daryl paused and turned to catch a look at her over his shoulder.

"I don't have anyone on my side…I haven't for weeks." Analeigh snuffled and berated herself inwardly for her impromptu display of emotion in front of him of all people. "I never asked to be left alone just the same as I never asked ya'll to show up so whatever the hell your problem is I don't want no part of it. Find someone else to act as your damn punchin' bag."

She straightened and started to hobble off away from him, back to the others only to have Daryl caught her mid stride. Fingers snaking around her forearm tightly, he held her to the spot and met eyes with her in an awkward exchange of intended apology he couldn't quite bring himself to vocalize. As quickly as he'd reached out and drawn a crooked finger across her cheek to swipe a tear away Analeigh wrenched her arm out of his grip.

"I am done with your bullshit." She spat. "Leave me the hell alone."

Fleeing briskly down the hallway, she left him alone to his thoughts and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Daryl's thoughts were fixed on something other than himself.


	8. Chapter Seven: Vatos Pt Seven

_**(A/N: *sigh* much delayed again but I vow to keep on track and write / update as much as possible. After last night's EPIC episode I'm so anxious to get this story progressed to amazing and much better and interesting parts it's not even funny. I've just moved last week and things are a bit slower now that all the stress and relocation is out of the way. That and I'm procrastinating unpacking as much as possible so who knows, I may even have another rewrite done by tomorrow night!)**_

_**Chapter Seven: Vatos Pt. Seven**_

The silence that filled the office space when the others were gone was an odd sort of thing really. The first time Analeigh had found herself so completely depleted of company she hadn't really noticed how hard it was to keep herself entertained or, for lack of a better term, contented to be on her own. There had been too much to do when she was first tasked with the chore of keeping watching her own back and keeping herself alive. Now that she was unofficially part of the group, everything that had to be done, simply stopped. At least at that precise moment in time it did anyways.

What little food and supplies left that she had gathered, Analeigh had already stuffed in one of the packs she had all ready and lined up by the door ready for a hasty departure. Rick had assured her that they had enough to get by on back at camp, and there was no real reason to risk a scavenging trip through the rest of the building for what little else there was to be had. The only think left for a poor girl playing the odd man out to do was to sit back idly on her hands and try and occupy her mind and wait for her new found "friends" to come back and claim her. A task that was far easier said than done.

The mere hour the rest of the group was gone felt like days as far as Analeigh was concerned. She paced the layout of the floor so many times she was quick to lose count. Unpacking and neatly repacking everyone's personal belongings had failed to provide much entertainment after the fourth consecutive time. And even a much needed attempt at getting a little further rest fell just a little too short of being successful. No matter what she did, Analeigh could focus on little else other than counting the minutes that she had been left alone as they slowly ticked by. In strange sort of way it was almost as if being left to her own devices was as much torture to her now as anything else horrifying and terrible she had already been subjected to.

It was funny the difference a day of being in good company after being so long deprived could make. The night before, Analeigh had slept more or less soundly through the night for the first time in what had felt like, and likely had been, forever; something which she never thought would be possible to have happen again so long as she lived. On account, it was most likely it was the security that she most enjoyed and most clung to and wanted around her just about every second of the day. Not having to watch every step she made or be on guard twenty-four hours a day. Having someone to stick up for her if need be, and more over someone that gave a shit about whether she lived or was left to rot or be torn to bits by the hoards that were good and ready for a fresh meal. Added to that was the normality and comfort of conversation company had to offer. No matter how unpleasant she continued to find Daryl to be, it was all something that Analeigh rather enjoyed and wished to have last as long as was humanly possible.

It was only when she heard the muffled echo of voices carrying through the stairwells, that Analeigh's nerves let up a little and only once the men started filtering back into the office did she allow herself to let out her breath and relax.

"Got any more ideas?" T-Dog was the first to stomp back into the room, their captive firmly in his grip as he ushered him back into a seat.

"If by that you mean good ones…then no." Rick shook his head "If it's ideas in general you're after…I'm workin' on that."

"What the hell for?" Daryl sneered. "Ain't gonna do us no good anyhow."

"We have to try."

"Best hope all this tryin' don't turn us into walker grub…I say we cut and run while we still got a chance."

"As far as I can tell nothin's keeping you here Daryl." Rick replied flatly, too deep in his own thought to be bothered much with any thought or opinion the redneck had to offer. "You wanna go on back to camp, you got every right to…but I ain't leavin' the city without Glen. I'll get him back one way or the other and whether you decide to be a part of it or not ain't up to me."

He hauled he sack of guns up onto the desk and set about readying himself to make a stand. The others kept silent around him, all eyes fixed in wordless disapproval at what he meant to do with the make shift armory. The situation, hopeless as it may be, was not something that was just going to resolve itself. Rick didn't like it any bit more than anyone else did and he was hardly one to crack under the pressure of demands being made but sometimes the only way to achieve a favorable end was to sweeten the proverbial pot. If handing over a few guns was the only thing that meant getting their own back then that's what was going to happen whether anyone liked it or not. He wasn't about to forfeit all of the guns however, and if the Vatos meant to up and take them anyway, then they would have a fight on their hands. The best fight that Rick could bring to the table anyhow and be that as it may, for everyone's sake he had all fingers and toes crossed that just this once things would play out in his favor.

"The guns are worth more than gold." Daryl was the first to speak up on the issue, uncharacteristically injecting a bit of sense into the matter. "Gold won't protect your family or put food on the table. You willing to give that up for that kid."

Analeigh shook her head. It was one thing to up and leave a stranger such as herself, but a whole different matter to abandon someone with whom they had more ties to.

"So that's it then? You really would just walk off and let God knows what happen to him?"

"Sacrifice for the greater good…would if it were up to me."

"Well, thank God it ain't." She spat. "For someone who's lookin' so hard for his damn brother you'll certainly throw off everyone else to the damn wolves as soon as look at 'em…nice way to keep yourself some friends."

"Might wanna know what you're talking 'bout before you open your mouth Sweetheart." Daryl's eyes fixed dead ahead as he fought back stronger reaction.

For someone who was so insistent keeping distance and avoiding his wrath, Analeigh was certainly still more than willing to dig at his buttons.

"It's real funny you think I don't…you go right on ahead and keep assumin'." She shot back. "Not that it matters right now though when the fact remains that you can't just damn well leave him here to whatever may come."

"No one's leavin' anyone alright?" Rick assured her. "That's not even on the table. Plan A didn't work and that's fine…maybe we shouldn't have expected it to. Point is, we regroup and go to plan B…plan B doesn't work and we go to plan C."

"You actually got a plan C?" Analeigh arched a brow.

"Not exactly." Rick slapped a fresh clip in one of the guns. "But I'll let ya'll know when I've got plan B fully worked through. However it goes, this ain't over yet."

"If I knew we'd get Glenn back I might agree." T-Dog brought his stance to the table. "But you think that Vato across the way's just gonna hand him over?"

"I don't plan on givin' him a choice."

"Are you calling G a liar?" The kid asked as though he had the right to take offense at anything said about his friends.

"Are you part of this? You wanna hold on to your teeth?" Daryl stormed towards him and cuffed him upside the head.

"Hit him again Daryl, and I swear to god we'll be leavin' you behind instead." Rick warned.

"Just how much time you plan on spending tryin' to get the Chinaman back?"

"As much as it takes."

"Wouldn't do the same for Mere now would you?" Daryl sneered.

"I came back didn't I? Didn't have to…hell I didn't even want to, but I did."

"Might be a foreign concept to you but some people actually have a little decency." Analeigh couldn't help but adding.

"Decency enough to leave a man handcuffed to a roof in the blindin' heat to be a sittin' duck for anything to come his way. Man saws his off his own damn hand to get away and you wanna tell me I don't know about decency?"

"I told you, your brother would have killed us all one way or another if we hadn't done what we did." Rick countered. "Merle was playin' sniper on the roof top and he was jacked out of his head at the time. I don't know about you but the last thing I want in a man totin' a gun is to be spun out on meth in the process."

Daryl's face fell slightly, humbled by something resembling disappointment in the accusation.

"Found it in his pocket…you can believe it or not but you might wanna take your brother off that pedestal you've got him sittin' up on."

Merle was a bit of a weak spot as far as Daryl was concerned, that much was obvious even to an outsider like Analeigh. The way he carried on about his brother and the desperate need to find him made it about as clear as day his brother was his top priority. Not that she could blame him in the least, Analeigh knew what it was like to deify a sibling just as much as how it was to be the one being held in the highest regard. Knowing someone you more or less worship was only human had a strange way of kicking one in the teeth, and judging from is reaction and the crestfallen look painted across his face it wasn't the first time Daryl had received the blow.

Analeigh would have rather have ignored and dismissed the fact that indeed Daryl apparently did have feelings but it seemed a near impossibility. It was the first spark of something other than aggression in him, something other than the need to project a well-hardened exterior and push the world away. She couldn't help but flash him a sympathetic look and a subdued half smile, even if he didn't want it. Daryl seemed like he would be the last to accept a friendly gesture even if he needed it, especially if came from her. Their eyes caught across the room and for a moment he was genuine and without hostility. No sideways glare, no sneer, no barely restrained anger, absolutely nothing to suggest his usual self. It was an unassuming look, nothing more and nothing less. He was human just the same as she was, and for just a split second, for once it felt like they were on the same level.

"If you don't mind, we need to get back on track." Rick loaded another round of ammunition into a second gun, jarring attention back to himself. "We gotta see to Glenn before we see to anything else."

"I don't know man," T-Dog rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. "What's to say anything we plan is gonna go way we want it to? It hasn't yet, and I think the question is do you trust that man's word?

"The question is what you're willing to be on it." Daryl corrected him. "Could be more than them guns, could be your life. Glenn worth that to you?"

"I repay my debts." Rick shoved his gun in his hip holster. "What life I have I owe to him. I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot in a tank. He could have walked away but he didn't and neither will I."

"So you're gonna hand the guns over."

"I didn't say that." He assured Daryl. "Like I told you, there's nothing keeping you two here. You should get out, make a sweep for Merle, take Analeigh out of here and head back to camp."

"But if we leave how are you gonna get back?" Analeigh asked, eyebrows knitting together in worry. "You can't just make some grand speech about not leavin' no one behind and then expect anyone's gonna be alright with you walkin' on home in the thick of things."

"I won't walk…I can jump a car just as good as the next man and bring it back to camp. We could use the gas and the parts anyways…can't ever have too much."

"We leave and we tell your family what exactly?" T-Dog sighed, knowing full well there wouldn't be any explaining to be had if they just showed up at the quarry sans Rick.

Daryl mulled things over a moment more yanked one of the guns off of the desk. It was a silent show of solidarity, and however bent out of shape he might have been about the whole plan of searching for Merle going the tubes, Rick did have a point. If they were going to talk all grand about not leaving any one behind, they should at least be willing to go all in and make as good a go of it as they could.

No one wanted to see anything go down or anyone to go out in a blaze of glory, not even the kid, who let loose his own protest only to have it fall on deaf ears. It was a risk and a half to go back without the intention of buckling and conceding with the opposing side's demand for the guns, but it was apparently a stand they were all willing to make. This time, even Analeigh wasn't about to be left behind, or let them make it on their own.

"Which one's mine?" She asked Rick, nodding her head in the direction of what was left of the guns.

"We'll sort that out when we get back, don't worry." He popped another round in one of the shotguns. "Not that you need to worry none about that anymore if you're coming back to camp. You won't need your own gun there, I promise we've got things under control."

"That ain't what I meant."

He paused and gave her a disbelieving, and somewhat disapproving look. "Don't think you're coming with us."

"Don't think I'm not."

"No." He shook his head with finality. "It's too dangerous."

"I can handle my own."

"I said no."

"And who says I gotta take that?"

"You know he's right." T-Dog backed Rick up. "Now's not the time to be given him hell. It's for your own good."

"Bullshit it's for my own good." She scoffed. "And bullshit it's too damn dangerous. I appreciate the thought but ya'll just don't get to waltz in and sort out what for my own damn good."

"Analeigh…" Rick attempted to interrupt and talk some sense into her.

"I have been here for two weeks…two weeks in the middle of hell itself." She bushed him off. "I ain't dead yet, am I?"

"I won't have you gettin' hurt resting on my conscience, not when I promised to keep you safe." He lowered his voice slightly. "I don't even like these two going along with me when it's my score to settle."

"Well I guess that's too bad ain't it." Analeigh dodged around him and grabbed one of the shotguns from the pile.

Rick folded his arms across his chest as if doing so would aid his final stance and if by some magic she would realize the error of her ways and replace the gun.

"You say you owe Glenn your life, well guess what I owe you mine and I ain't gonna let you cheat me out of _my_ chance to repay." She stood her ground. "Now, either you give me the rounds for this bad boy or I go get my damn bat…but either way I am goin' with you this time. I don't care if I have to stay a hundred paces behind you so's you don't know I'm following you…I'm goin'."

With another pointedly disappointed look, Rick relented. She wasn't wrong in the slightest. Much like he wanted to do whatever it was that he could to help those who brought him back to camp, Analeigh had every right to do the same even if it was against his better judgment to go along with it.

"I still don't like this." He grumbled and cracked open the shotgun and loaded it for her, unable to keep an amused smirk from spreading over his face.

"Maybe if you say it a few hundred more times it might make a difference. Now if you'll wait just a minute I will go and get my shoes." She took the gun in her grip and slung it over her shoulder with a crooked smirk that lightened the mood.

"You got guts…I'll give you that." Daryl's eyes tracked her as she made for the door. "Just don't let it get you killed."

"Don't you worry about me."

He grabbed her around the arm again, and held her long enough just for a few last words. "Who said I am?"


	9. Chapter Eight: Vatos Pt Eight

_**(A/N: Woo hoo! Another chapter down, one step closer to BRAND NEW ONES! With any luck I should be done the last re-write at some point between tonight and tomorrow afternoon :) I'm so excted to get this on the road and towards more current happenings in the show. Every new episode makes me have about a million ideas for future good stuff and it's killing me :P)**_

_**Chapter Eight: Vatos Pt. Eight**_

Making one trip back and forth through the city on foot was a risk at no mistake, making a second was downright stupid. After the dust up in the alley however, using the van was more or less a no go and that was a kick in the crotch if ever there was one. Using a vehicle was easier, faster, and arguably safer for the group but every advantage the van had to offer to them would only be fully realized if the streets were clear. Even then, clear was a relative term when it came down to it. Half eaten corpses and bodies left to rot were strewn right and left amongst piles of scattered debris. Worse than that, toppled and abandoned cars lined the roads in maze like fashion that made it near impossible to carve a path through without moving at a snail's pace. Taking their time and making a ruckus doing just that _might_ have been a luxury the group could have been afforded were their surroundings still and quiet. But after the dust up in the alley stirring up a gang of walkers chomping at the bit to get their hands on some fresh meat, stealth was the only option and stealth came only by way of hoofing it.

Rick told Analeigh that the distance between the two hideaways was less than significant and even for her could be walked with little difficulty at all. Not that the promise of a short trip meant much at all to her, or calmed her nerves any. It was no secret that walkers could smell the difference between themelseves and the living quite well and on account fresh blood in the open would have been like sounding a meal bell to them. As far as Analeigh was concerned, in all likelihood she must have smelled like an all you can eat lunch buffet to any walker within thirty feet. Her wound had been thoroughly cleaned and re-bandaged of course, but whether that alone was good enough to hold them off her trail was anyone's guess.

Foolish stubbornness and her sudden wash of courage within the confines of the building waned more than just a little once they were out on the street. Anticipating what seemed like inevitable doom, Analeigh chewed herself out with a long chain of choice words and mental jabs for thinking she had any part in a rescue mission at all. With every step she took, her heart beat a little faster. Every slight skip of a pebble kicked up against the concrete made her cringe and hold her breath, and every time they rounded a corner she was downright convinced they were about to walk in to a truckload of trouble.

Luck, however, was on the group's side so it seemed. Sheer, dumb luck with a good portion of good fortune being due to the way Daryl had deftly wound them through the city seemingly knowing the best route to avoid conflict ten steps in advance. Before long, they had made it and the sprawl of a massive abandoned hospital, despite being "enemy" head quarters, was just about the most welcome sight in the world. Under even slightly different circumstances Analeigh may very well have squealed in delight but the matter at hand being what it was, excess jubilation didn't seem exactly appropriate.

Just beyond the courtyard outside of the hospital, the group drew up ranks and took cover around the bend of a broken down brick wall. Tensions ran high and not one of them dared to hazard a guess in which direction favor would sway. They had no idea what they were about to walk in to or what would happen from that point on and that made Analeigh (maybe above everyone else) more than just a little anxious.

A promise was a promise though, and she couldn't exactly turn coward and go back on her word after all her grandstanding and especially not after coming so far. Rick of course, would have no problem if she decided to turn heel and make a run for it, and in fact he probably would have preferred her to. She was nothing if not loyal and once she decided where her allegiance lay, it would be until the end no matter how bitter it may be. For the time being, her fealty was with the man who promised her a greater chance of survival and a place to call home, the man who had been the first to extend himself in kindness since her world had flat out ceased to exist. What sort of gesture of gratitude would she be showing if she turned tail and ran like the devil was after her?

Analeigh had to stay, no matter what it meant for her.

Rick's face fell tight and drawn as he stuffed a few extra rounds in his pockets and double checked everything was primed and ready for quick draw action if need be.

"Once we go in there, ain't no turnin' back." Daryl reminded him. "You better make damn sure you know what we're doin's gonna work."

"About as sure as I can be."

"Which is?"

"Not very." Rick sighed and ran over his plan of attack once again in his head.

He'd yet to feel good about admitting it any time, but Daryl was right. There wasn't any room in error in what they were about to do and even the best plan he had devised in his head didn't now seem well thought out enough by half.

"We get in there we need to keep things level…as much as we can anyway." He looked pointedly at Daryl. "Which means you let me do all the talkin'. It's best if you just keep your mouth shut if you can help it…which to be clear I'm not askin' you, I'm tellin'."

Analeigh smirked slightly, taking the opportunity to enjoy the fact that someone had finally told Daryl to shut up a head of time for a change; something by her approximation was far too long over due.

"That goes for you too, I might add." Rick muttered all knowingly over his shoulder in her direction."

"Me?" She feigned a decent amount of shock. "Why me? I didn't do nothin'."

"He knows damn well you ain't got a clue when to keep your yap shut neither." Daryl quipped.

"Anythin' more you want to contribute?"

"Believe me, I got plenty." He sneered, leaned against the wall with arms folded across his chest and looking every bit as smug as ever.

"Are we doin' this or what?" Analeigh growled impatiently. The sooner they got their little operation on the road, the sooner she wouldn't have to listen to Daryl's stupid mouth. "Standin' around all day ain't gonna do dick all and it case you hadn't noticed, sundown tends to creep up on you 'round here."

"Alright," Rick nodded his head in the direction of the hospital. "Let's make it quick. We don't go after them unless they come at us first, we can't afford to start somethin' we might not be able to finish if we can help it."

With a rough prod of his gun, Daryl urged their now bound and gagged captive to his feet and through a small opening in the wall leading to the courtyard with T-Dog following close in toe. Hanging back slightly, Rick made a grab for Analeigh's elbow and held her back a moment.

"I won't pretend I'm happy about you being here." He whispered sternly.

"Now who's starting to sound like a broken record?" Analeigh quipped. "You rather I wait out here on my own?"

"You know what I mean."

"I suppose I could head on back…also on my own." She ribbed him, perhaps indulging a little too much in the device of ridiculousness to prove her standpoint.

"Analeigh…"

"I'm just sayin' I ain't goin' anywhere."

"I know." Rick nodded. "And I appreciate that."

"But…" Analeigh prompted him, now wasn't the most opportune time to be stalling just to share gratitude unless there was more to come along with it.

"I'm just sayin' if it goes sideways in there I want you to get the hell out and get out quickly you hear me?"

"It won't."

"But if it does." Rick continued. "You turn heel and you run as fast as you can back to that tower…don't slow down…don't look back…just _run_."

"I…"

"This is important…you listen to me a moment." He cut her off abruptly and took her solidly by the shoulders. "The van's a couple blocks south from where we found you…now if we don't come back by night fall you wait until morning and you take that van back to wherever the hell it is you call home."

"I can't just leave ya'll…" Analeigh raised a second round of protest.

"Don't worry about us, we've been through worse and got out of it…things get sticky I want you to worry about yourself first and let us handle the rest."

It went against everything Rick had been telling anyone who would listen from day one of course. He still believed that people had to band together if they had any hope of coming out of the everything alive. But at the same time, he couldn't in good conscience expect Analeigh, badly injured and much too small in stature, to hold her own and be able to defend herself against go only knew how many angry men. Guns or no guns, there was no question the group would be badly out numbered. Rick didn't want to as much as say so but also there was no questioning whatsoever Analeigh was he weakest link in the group. She would make easy pickings for the others to nab for additional bargaining leverage, or worse for their own entertainment, and he wasn't about to let either happen. Especially not after everything she had already been forced to endure.

"Any of what I'm sayin' sinkin' in? You understand what you gotta do?"

"Yes…but…"

"_Do you _understand?" Rick stooped a bit and matched his eye line with hers, running out of both patience and time for back and forth or any more debate on the matter.

"I understand." Analeigh's brow furrowed as she heaved a sigh and kicked at the dirt like a scolded five year old. "Ain't nothin' gonna happen anyway though so I don't know why you're worryin'."

"I know it ain't." He lied, and motioned her onward with a nod of his head and an attempt at a reassuring smile. "But let's keep our fingers and toes crossed up anyhow…for everyone's sake."

Planning, thinking and talking about wandering into another group's domain and actually doing so were two different animals entirely. Being faced with actual action instead of words, every scrap of courage Analeigh had talked herself into having amounted to a steaming pile of garbage when all was said and done. Even in the company of three more than able bodied men who she was quite sure war cable of holding their own, everything she had instilled in herself was done a way with just as quickly as the heavy metal doors of the hospital were pulled open. Fingers tapping out an anxious little rhythm against the barrel of her gun, she forced herself forward with the others as Daryl roughly shoved the boy into the building ahead of them. A good too dozen men by her count, maybe more, and maybe even more than that just waiting out of sight in the wings as back up. There was a good two dozen men all gathered and ready for them in the hospital ambulance bay with assorted weapons in hand; each more stern and menacing than the last and none of which Analeigh was entirely thrilled to be standing in front of to say the least.

Not that it was rational, or at all realistic, for her to assume she was the focal point of their collective attention. But through all the tension, stillness, and rampant testosterone hanging heavy in the air Analeigh couldn't help but feel as though two dozen sets of eyes were searing holes clean through her. Being the lone female in the room bearing quite a bit of novelty to the situation didn't help matters much either. Each scrutinizing gaze from the hardened men, however few and far between, made her more and more uncomfortable and it the more uncomfortable she was, the harder it became to convince anyone otherwise. Eyes locked dead ahead of her and trying to keep as much focus as possible, Analeigh wished for something, anything to happen to speed the situation along. More specifically she wished for something to get their backs from against the wall, something to get them back on their way with Glenn in hand and on their way out of the city. Only then would her worsening nerves relinquish the death grip they had on her stomach, for the time being anyways.

As if on cue, a smaller one of the men pushed forward from the back of the group. Dressed head to toe in black with a silver rosary around his neck and enough swagger for a man ten times his size, he was clearly the intended leader of the pack; the one the boy had called "G." back in the office.

"I see my guns." He stepped towards Rick. "But they're not all in the bag."

"That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that."

A larger man stepped forward; heavier set and holding a thick square pad of gauze to his derrière clearly having been the one to fall victim to Daryl's crossbow.

"Let's just shoot these fools right now Ese." He spurred G. on. "Unload on their asses Ese."

"I'm not sure you understand the gravity of the situation."

"No, I'm pretty clear." Rick assured him. He pulled a small blade out of his pocket and cut free the binds from around the boy's wrists before giving him a good shove in the direction of his people. "You have your man, I want mine."

G. didn't so much as make a move, unrelenting in both his end goal and his attempt to intimidate his rivals.

"I see you brought your lady." A nefarious smirk adorned his face as he shifted his attention away from towards Analeigh. " Maybe you need to sweeten the deal…maybe I want her too…"

"I ain't here to bargain."

"What makes you have the choice?"

"Because I say so."

"Well, I say we take the guns…all of them…and your lady too. Maybe I say we send you on your way with nothing." G. countered, side stepping Rick and moving towards Analeigh.

G.'s increasing interest had her rattled even more. Fingers on trembling hands pressed so tightly against her gun that her knuckles turned white and her fingernails threatened to crack right in half. Every fiber of her being was wound so tightly at that moment it was small wonder she managed to hold enough of her wits and didn't prematurely fire off around and peg one of G.'s men. Much more of that sort of tension and she was likely to break in some manner or another.

"My boys are lonely…"

Another step towards her.

"A pretty little thing like that could do us a whole world of good."

She swallowed thickly and struggled to hold herself together as a chorus of low catcalls resounded through the crowd around them.

"Maybe we could use a little entertainment." Another suggestive quip preceded another lecherous smile.

Neither Analeigh nor even Daryl himself would have ever expected that he would be the first one to act. But in one swift movement his hand slipped around her upper arm and he pulled her back a little, skirting her behind him to keep her from immediate reach. Out of reflex her fingers tentatively wound in the hem of his shirt, balling the material up in her clenched fist as though hanging on to him would make any difference at all. His attention never leaving the group of men before them, Daryl gave her arm a gentle and reassuring squeeze as he held her with him protectively.

For the second time in just about as many hours, pain in the ass that he was, Daryl had proved he was in fact capable of being a decent human being. At the very least he'd shown he did in fact have a certain degree of empathy and some range of feelings beyond distain and annoyance. Even if he did hate her guts, in one simple wordless act, it was clear he wasn't about to let any sort of harm befall her. Doubtful as Analeigh was that the sudden show of kindness would last for any solid amount of time, at the very least it was something to make her feel as though she was just as safe with him as she was with Rick. Daryl had her back, for the time being. As G. made another move towards her, that fact alone was something Analeigh was thankful for beyond all else.

"Take one more step and you won't live long enough to regret it." Rick warned through clenched teeth, mirroring G.'s movement to block his path towards Analeigh.

Refocused on the heart of the matter, G. cut to the chase. "I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. Three of the evilest, nastiest, man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale." He spat, seeking to bring the conflict to a head and force his hand. "I told you how it has to be, are you willfully deaf?"

"My hearing's fine…you said come locked and loaded. Okay then…we're here."

A murmur passed through the room, boiling point met as every gun in hand was cocked and found a target. If not a gun, every bat, pipe and length of chain the rest of G.'s men had in hand was readied as the standoff reached it's peak and everyone in the room was set to go out in the best way they saw fit for the good of either side. Neither was about to back down and it was all too clear at that point that Rick's request that Analeigh find a speedy escape may very well come to fruition.

Whether or not a speedy escape would come easily or not was a different matter all together. The doors through which they had entered were still being stood guard by the men who had hauled them open and each had their own guns readied and set to take fire. The handful of windows scattered about the room were all too high and also far too narrow for Analeigh to easily squeeze through. Even by some miracle she could get free by one of them, in a flurry of bullets, flying fists and weapons she wouldn't have made it more than a few feet before being taken down by something or other.

It had been stupid of her to come along, just plain stupid. Whether on account of said stupidity or perhaps rather her sheer hard headedness Analeigh had managed to weasel her way into quiet possible the worst situation she could find herself in since arriving in the city. What was worse was the fact that this time there was absolutely nothing she could do to improve odds in her favor even just a little. She was trapped I with the rest of them and forced to face whatever end there was in store for her.

All it took was one quick twist of fate, one truly an exceptionally bizarre moment in time, and the full-blown stand off was derailed just as quickly as it had commenced. From the back of the room a shrill cry cut through the tension hanging about the room, and then another. Calling for one of the men, a tiny elderly woman moved through the sea of bodies diverting weapons and inserting an whole new sense of nervousness into the situation.

Analeigh might have laughed if she wasn't as absolutely flabbergasted as the others by the scene unfolding before her. A sweet old lady seeing out her grandson (the thug who had been privileged enough to take an arrow in the ass) and rattling on frantically about something concerning an asthma attack. A sweet old lady amongst them men who had unceremoniously abducted Glenn and beaten the tar out of Daryl. The sight was about as out of place as Analeigh must have been in amidst her own respective group and yet there she was, unexpectedly having diffused a situation guaranteed to end badly for all parties involved.

Something about this hospital and all the people who had holed up within it was very obviously not exactly what it appeared to be. And what that would mean for the group was anyone's guess.


	10. Chapter Nine: Vatos Pt Nine

_**(A/N: YAAAAAYYY! The last re-write is finally here. This was always a filler chapter so it's not so exciting but hopefully still well receieved. There's a lot about the last part that I changed to try and make it a little more interesting so please guys, I want lots of feedback on this!**_

_**Also, I probably will not have the next one up until late in the week if at all before the finale. Sad I know but I just sarted a new job here in addition to my current job and I have a busy early week to contend with! Promise things pick up from here so hopefully it'll make up for a bit of a wait…it won't be too long though, I promise!)**_

_**Chatpter Nine: Vatos Pt. Nine**_

Coming down from the intensity of a fully armed stand off, no matter how brief it happed to be, was not exactly the easiest in the world. Settling rattled nerves and trying to stem the kick of adrenaline that had everyone right up on edge wasn't exactly the quickest process to go through either. Then there was the fact that what had just happened couldn't be considered any less bizarre and confusing and it was quite safe to say there wasn't any of the group that wasn't experiencing some level of sensory overload. Of all the possible out comes the convergence had to offer, it was safe to say neither faction would have ever predicted such a closing.

Sixty seconds, and a little old lady was all it took to blow the gang's tough as nails facade right out of the water. She'd exposed the men collectively for what they were, survivors, and good men about as likely to beat, maim or kill anyone as much as Rick and the others were. All anyone had any more was a good game to talk in order to get their way, it was easy to look and sound tough when the need came about. The Vatos, as it were, were apparently no different and when push came to shove they hoped they wouldn't need to follow up on ominous threats as much as those who were being threatened. Glenn was safe and sound, and presumably had never even been in any real danger at all. The irony of the matter was that in actually Glenn, as a hostage had been far and beyond much safer than any of the rest of them had been walking into the situation at hand.

Daryl decided just then, right as they crossed an inner courtyard towards Glenn's location, that he was going to give the Chinaman a what for when they got back to camp. Stomping over deadened grass, he mulled over just how badly he would chew the little punk out for putting everyone else under so much stress and making them expend so much time and energy that could be better spent elsewhere. Never mind all that, to walk away from things and head back to the quarry having given away half the guns and ammo was outright ridiculous considering the little pain in the ass had most likely been sitting pretty and playing some sort of make shift checkers the whole time. They were the ones who had worried to the point of giving themselves ulcers over his well being while Glenn himself had probably been on cloud nine the entire time. For that, there was sure to be an exchange of words.

The only good thing to come out of the matter, if he could call it that, was a realization Daryl would continue to be floored by even if he were pre-warned about it a dozen times in a row. Rick was right, in order to get out alive and on top of anything they were facing, they needed to take it on together. There wasn't anything quite like being out numbered that they had been in the ambulance bay to drive that point home. Daryl and his brother had burned a lot of bridges in their self-imposed ostracizing. They'd put a lot of effort into fashioning themselves as the outsiders, only out to watch each others backs unless they had need to take advantage of the group for their own personal gain.

From day one, Daryl himself had managed to establish himself as the one who was too hot headed and unpredictable to get all too close to. A volatile and shifty son of a bitch that couldn't be trusted further than he could be thrown, who didn't give a fuck about anyone other than himself. It might have been that it was Merle's influence on him. Maybe it was one of many deep seeded issues that was the cause of it, there was no way in telling for sure but for the longest time that had been the only way Daryl had know how to be, and certainly it was still the only way he was fully comfortable with being. Things had shifted however, and with the chances of finding his brother growing slimmer by the second, much to Daryl's chagrin he had to admit that the quarry was where his people were. And they _were_ his people now, all of them. That didn't mean he had to like them, and it was doubtful he would pull an about face over night, but the time in which self isolation was an option was quickly coming to a close. Daryl had to get figure out a way to get along, even if each and every one of them just so happened to grate on his last nerve.

Analeigh shuffle stepped and half hobbled through the terrace, trying her best to keep up with Daryl, whose strides were much longer than her own. He pulled her along behind him, grip still steadfast around her wrist having taken hold of her again as they'd set off in search of Glenn. Sheer instinct undoubtedly, a little extra insurance and piece of mind that she was being kept out of harms way as much as possible if something got stirred up again. It was the longest, and the closest for that matter, that they pair had kept in each other's company and for however oblivious Daryl was of the fact, Analeigh was made all the more aware.

"I think you can let go of me now." She winced slightly, taking an odd step, jarring her injured leg just enough to send a sharp pang of pain up it's length.

"Huh?" He tightened his grip and hauled her up slightly as she faltered in her footing.

"My wrist…. I think you can let go." Analeigh repeated. "I don't think they're gonna try nothin' or anythin'"

"You might be right...might not be though."

Daryl halted in his tracks and slipped his fingers from around her.

"Guess we'll see won't we?"

"Guess so."

Analeigh rubbed at her wrist, easing the slight ache of the skin where he had held on to her just a little too tightly.

He fixed on her again, a dead stare she could feel intently scanning her, testing her even, searching for some sort of reaction she wasn't even sure she wanted to give. She hated that stare, everything about it. She hated the way it froze her to the spot and the way it made her feel so vulnerable, exposed even. She hated the intensity in those blue eyes, so predatory in nature it was hard to tell if he was downright glaring at her or keeping her in his sights just long enough to get in her head. Whatever the case may be Daryl undoubtedly had the uncanny ability to set every bit of Analeigh on edge.

"Best keep close anyway." He took a second look around the terrace. Gnawing on his thumbnail anxiously, he tried to sort out just how much trust he wanted to relinquish to any of the men they still knew so little about. "Do yourself a favor and don't go wanderin' nowhere."

"I know…I won't."

"Good." He shifted on his heel and moved off towards the staircase the others had already made their way up. "'Cause I ain't coming after you if you do."

Barring the fact that it was abandoned, run down, and run through, on the inside, the hospital was everything it was meant to be. Quiet, calm, and in an odd way even comforting, even with the windows boarded shut and the doors solidly welded shut from the inside. Standing within it's walls, there was little that gave even the slightest indication that anything having had gone horribly wrong in the world outside it's sanctuary. No broken glass, no splintered wood or holes broken through the dry wall. There was no assorted debris, scattered trash, or any degree of disarray whatsoever. Inviting and infinitely more livable than was to be expected, the hospital was stark in its contrast to the office tower.

Whatever may have happened within the hospital walls when the outbreak had first hit, there had been a concerted effort to clean or repair anything left damaged and disrupted. The rooms within were full of people learning to live the best way they knew how despite the upheaval they'd had no choice but to go through. Home was where the heart was and if this was to be their home then it only make sense to restore a sense of comfort and safety for those who were stuck without anywhere else to go. They were making the best of their situation as they went along while a the same time doing whatever they could to improve upon what was presented to them as their new life. That as the difference to Analeigh between herself and them. That was the difference between living, and just merely existing, and what she had been doing could barely even be considered the latter.

Reaching the end of a long corridor, a crowd of people gathered in some sort of common room soon came into sight with Glenn's red hat leaping out distinctly from the crowd of dressed down residents. He was blessedly without so much as a scratch on him in and smack the middle of the array of people gathered around an elderly gentlemen in a wheel chair.

"What the hell is this?" Rick asked.

"An asthma attack." Glenn replied, wrought with concern as the man fought for every breath he managed to sputter out. "He couldn't get his breath all of the sudden."

"I think he meant what is all _this_." Analeigh twirled her finger about, gesturing at the room and the current happenings. Phillpe had cut through the pack and was attending to the man with more care and compassion she would have ever imagined based on first impressions. "Can't speak for anyone else but it's not somethin' I expected to walk on into."

"We thought you were being eaten by dogs, man!" T-Dog chimed in, naturally relieved but more than just a little put out by the conditions at hand.

"Not exactly." Glenn smirked and gestured to a small dog bed tucked against the base of one of the tables and filled with three tiny Chihuahuas. As far as vicious man eating hell spawn went, they were more likely to be more of a nuisance than take a chomp out of him, small stature aside.

"Not exactly seems to be the running theme 'round here…you're supposed to be a hostage and you're not even tied up."

"Can I have a word with you?" Rick interrupted the reunion and steered G. aside from the group. "You're the dumbest son of a bitch I ever met. We walked in ready to kill every last one of you."

"I'm glad it didn't go down that way."

"If it had, that blood would be on my hands."

"Mine too." G. insisted. "We'd have fought back, it wouldn't be the first time we had to…protect the food, the medicine, what's left of it. These people, the old ones, the staff took off…just left them here to die. Me and Phillipe were the only ones who stayed.

"What are you?" Rick tried to piece together a little more information. "Doctors?"

"Phillipe's a nurse, a special care provider…me, I'm the custodian."

"Dude that's a nurse…" Daryl smirked to himself.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Rick questioned the impromptu insinuation. Now wasn't the time or the place to be stirring the pot or rather, _re_-stirring it for that matter.

"Just sayin'."

"You 'just say' a lot of things." Analeigh muttered from the sidelines. "Doesn't mean your words _or _ your opinions mean dick all."

"You'd know all about that." Daryl bit back under his breath.

"Really?" Rick huffed, enough edge in his voice to convey the fact that the time for verbal sparring was certainly not in the middle of trying to sort out new circumstances and forge new allies. "You can't even hush up for five minutes?"

Analeigh opened her mouth to complain only to think better of it before apologizing with a heavy sigh and a dirty look tossed Daryl's way.

"We do what we can to help…to take care of them." his explanation "It's not much, and it's getting harder but it's the least we can do…it's the least anyone could do…and a lot more than most people now a days would do."

Rick took a moment to fully appreciate what exactly it was the men were risking. The world had gone straight to hell in a hand basket and he was certain that the majority of the population had gone along for the ride. But the fact that there were some people still willing to forego the luxury of safety, and put their necks on the line for those who could not meant that there was still something left worth fighting for. The rest of the world may have been a wash, but was long as there were people like this, like Morgan, and like Glenn and the others as bad as things got there was still a chance. As long as people were willing to uphold something of a normal decent life meant that a fresh start wasn't completely out of the picture yet if they could continue to rise above and survive.

"You say your friend's a nurse?" Rick cocked his head to the side slightly. "He know how to stitch a wound?"

Ending up in a make shift hospital was apparently the best outcome that Analeigh could have hoped for in the long run of things; even if she didn't care to admit it. Whether she wanted to keep firm handle on her denial or actually relent and admit it, like it or not her leg was in bad need of medical attention from somebody who knew what they were doing. The act of getting said attention, however, was nothing she was overtly thrilled with.

Her mood wasn't what anyone could have called the greatest to begin with. What was bad only further spiraled into what could only be considered god-awful after Rick had more or less gently enforced the issue of seeing to getting her leg tended. He apparently thought it was a preferable idea at the very least, and basically a necessity if she were to venture back and stay at camp with them. For what it was worth Analeigh didn't relish the thought of having to dig even small amounts of dirt and grit out of an open wound on a daily basis either, especially without anesthetic. That aside, anything that was about to be done to her leg in the relative cleanliness of the hospital didn't exactly inspire eager willingness to let Phillpe have at. Memories of stitching her own wound were still fresh in her mind as something that nobody wants to have to do twice. With the flesh now even more tender when the wound was fresh, Analeigh wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the process. At least when she had been sewing herself up there was some sense of control that she had managed to retain, hardly the way things would be with having it done for her. She had trusted Rick to help her out and everything had turned out fine and dandy. Walking into a completely different situation and putting trust in yet another person she didn't know from a hole in the wall didn't do anything to set her at ease either. Rationally Analeigh knew full well the threats made towards her in first meeting the men had been empty and disingenuous. But at the same time what residual trauma of the things she'd experienced at the hands of strange men previously didn't allow much in the way of reasonable and rational thought process.

Rick had, however, assured her that she wouldn't be left alone while being dealt with. While he and T-Dog had taken the guns and went to discuss matters with G. in a room just down the hallway, Glenn and Daryl had been appointed Analeigh's personal bodyguards (for lack of a better term). Neither of them seemed to keen on their assigned task for the day of course. Glenn on account of being on the heavier side of a little squeamish, and Daryl (as per usual) just plain put out for the sake of being plain put out.

"God…" Glenn grimaced as he took a peek at the exposed wound primed and ready to be treated. "How has your leg not actually turned black and fallen of?"

"Dumb luck most likely." Analeigh snapped. "How the hell should I know?"

"Dude…" He wrinkled his nose and turned three shades of green. "That is gross."

"You're the one that keeps lookin' at it."

"I wish I knew why…but I can't look away."

"Ain't even your leg." Daryl chortled. "You can't man up a bit?"

"I don't see you takin' a gander." Analeigh snarked.

"Don't gotta to know I've seen worse." He shot back. "Hell I've _had_ worse."

"Sure you have."

"What…you wanna see the scars."

Analeigh huffed and rolled her eyes. Everything had to be a pissing contest with Daryl, like he was trying to prove something to someone, anyone who would listen. In a way it was almost as sad as it was irritating, the way he stormed around with his back up looking to pick a fight over just about anything as if that would lend him some sort of validation. It was like he was a neglected kid, acting out in all manners to get some small scrap of attention that never came his way. Maybe he'd been hurt too deeply to ever recover, maybe that was the reason all he knew was to lash out and overreact. Maybe he had always been that way, or maybe he was overcompensating on account of unforgiving conditions. There were layers upon layers of issues to be dissected at any rate and at the end of the day, the more time she spent around Daryl, the more Analeigh got the impression they weren't at all so very different; not that he would ever have mind to hear it.

"You can stop pacin' any time now." She grumbled, narrowed gaze trailing him too and fro as he moved back and forth over the span of the small exam room. "Ain't like I ain't already nervous enough as is. Watching you put a track in the floor ain't helping a damn bit."

"Yeah, well…you ain't the only one wound up around here. I got shit on my mind too."

"And what would that be exactly?"

"Merle." Glenn replied for him. "Anything else doesn't exactly count in Daryl's world."

"That or maybe ya'll are too busy assuming I don't give a rat's ass to notice otherwise."

"He's here ain't he?" Analeigh came to his defense. "Far as I can tell, nobody put a gun to his head to come and help you out of a bind…or what everyone thought was a bind. Maybe some people just take longer to figure out how play nicely with everyone else…don't mean they won't ever, or that they don't care."

"Whatever."

"If you can't care about family…who can you care about?" She brushed off his disregard for her statement as quickly as he had hers. "I got a brother…two actually. I get it….believe me I do."

Daryl's demeanor slipped slightly and with a slowed pace he snuck downcast glimpse in her direction. "If you got a brother then why ain't you with him now?"

"I think we best leave that story for another day." Analeigh smiled wistfully, unspeakably thankful any further explanation was suddenly interrupted by Phillipe's return.

Antiseptic wipes, a small pair of scissors, some long medical tweezers, and a ream of fresh gauze were all lined up on the sterile stainless steel tray in his grasp. Nothing out of the ordinarily or particularly intimidating looking and yet somehow at the same time, an array of items nothing less than ominous to Analeigh's eyes, perhaps with very good reason.

"I can't close it up again, not without risk of infection." He informed her apologetically. "The tissue's already red and inflamed, which means it might be already but at least if it's open it'll have the chance to drain; you'll need to keep close watch on it."

"Drain?" Glenn blanched slightly and gripped at his stomach as several nauseating images flashed through his mind.

"Oh for cryin' out loud." Analeigh muttered under her breath.

"Be thankful it ain't him in your place." Daryl cracked a rare grin at Glenn's expense. "Got a splinter in the heel of his hand and we had to listen to him bitch about it for three days."

"Hey, it was a big splinter okay?"

"Oh I'm sure my heart's bleedin' for you." She gibed with an amused smile of her own.

"These have to come out." Phillipe gestured towards the remaining sewing thread laced through and barely holding Analeigh's flesh together.

"That's fine." She shrugged. "I promise you, so long as you can make it better I ain't complainin'."

"Yeah, well…you might…it's not gonna feel good."

"Wasn't really expectin' it to."

Leaning back in the chair, Analeigh took a deep breath grabbed herself a good hold firm of the vinyl padding on the arms.

Phillipe snapped on a latex glove and pulled the tray towards himself. "You need to stop, go ahead and say so."

"Just get on and get it done with."

A cool splash of disinfectant against her skin and there was little Analeigh could do in the way of backing out now. A clink of metal on metal as Phillipe pulled the scissors from the tray and slipped them beneath the thread of the first suture. Where the blades should have been cool and smooth to the touch against her skin, torn edges around the wound still tender to the touch meant all she could feel was harsh, rough heat that spread like wildfire across nerve endings.

Phillipe snipped the thread and slid his scissors upwards, snipped again and slid upwards. The higher up the scissors slipped, the more tender the flesh was. Each light graze of metal, and the pull of the dried blood cracking away from itself as the wound spread open made Analeigh want to crawl out of her skin. Scissors were swapped out for tweezers and as Phillipe tugged out the first scrap of thread, she bit back a gasp and held her breath; he slowly tugged out the other piece and she tensed again, fingernails cutting little crescent moon indents in the arm rest of the chair.

"Are you okay?" Glenn peered sympathetically from beneath the brim of his hat, noting her discomfort.

"Just peachy, thanks."

Another tug and she squeezed the chair a little harder.

"If you need to stop…" Phillipe offered.

"I don't." Analeigh grit her teeth as he took grip on another piece of thread. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

The thread slipped through the wound a little and lodged itself stuck.

"The sooner we get this over with…" She winced as the nurse tugged at the thread again. "The sooner we can go lookin' for Daryl's brother."

Phillipe wiggled the string a little, freeing the flesh around it and working it bit by bit through it's puncture site.

"The sooner we can go lookin' for Daryl's brother, the sooner we can get the hell outta dodge…and the sooner we get the hell out of dodge…" Analeigh sucked a breath in and with a yank the sliver of thread with a little knotted end pulled free from her leg. "The sooner I can sit happy as a goddamn clam and forget all of this…heal up a little…maybe work my way back home after things die down a little."

"Might be holdin' your breath a while on that." Daryl muttered from the corner of the room, clearly having been made uncomfortable himself by the impromptu medical procedure.

"You never know."

"Two down…" Phillipe tapped his tweezers on the side of small tin in the middle of his tray and prepared for the next extraction. "Twelve to go."

"For shit's sake." Analeigh whined. "Please don't count."

Leg already throbbing as it was, she gripped the chair again and took a moment to ready herself as well.

"Plannin' on finding your brothers?" Daryl asked quietly.

"Who said they're missin'?"

"You're here…they're not." He retorted. "Chances are one way or the other somone's missin'."

"Funny thing really…the way you actually sound interested…"

"I was only askin'."

Analeigh dropped her head slightly. "Like you actually care."

"Why are you so sure I don't." Daryl's expression soured as if he took her words as an actual affront.

"Because I _ain't_ stupid…you care about anything I have to say all of the sudden…sure, I believe that alright…"

"Forget it." He spat, gentled disposition done a way with just as soon as it had settled in. "I Try to be _nice_ for a change…"

"Why's it even any of your business?"

"I said, _fine_…fuck it."

"I know where my family is…" She caved and gave him a scrap of what he was apparently so desperate to know if for no other reason than to shut him up and put an end to what was tantamount to a bratty child's temper tantrum. "Since you're so damn eager to know…I put them in the ground myself…"

Daryl stiffened and cursed under his breath. Any bridge built with Analeigh, however slight and however shaky it may have been, now stood shattered once again. He'd have said something if he knew just what words to offer, but much as skill with niceties, his apologies more often than not left something to be desired. All he could do was turn to face her, a crumpled mess of a girl forced again to scratch the surface of wounds as deep and painful as that which marred her physically. A crumpled girl still settled on the examining chair with new tears collecting at the corners of woeful eyes with her voice falling barely above a whisper.

"Satisfied?"


End file.
